


24 Frames Per Second - How (not) to be Friends

by Leandra



Series: 24 Frames Per Second [2]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-18
Updated: 2011-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-27 12:10:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/295714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leandra/pseuds/Leandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a sequel to 24 Frames Per Second: The Belleville Fright Night Experiment of 1984 and it picks up 9 years later: It's 1993 and Gerard runs into Frank at the movie theater – where else? - after Frank returns from his 4-year stint in Seattle. While everybody around Gerard turns out to be a traitor siding with the enemy, Gerard himself wants nothing more desperately than Frank back...</p><p>Features a pug puppy, a nasty fight, a near-car accident and a little baby-girl called "AnnieWay".</p>
            </blockquote>





	24 Frames Per Second - How (not) to be Friends

Prologue

 _Christmas Eve, 1993, New Jersey._

Gerard was sitting in his mother's kitchen in front of a cup of coffee, feeding little pieces of raw bacon to his overexcited pug puppy yipping at his feet, occasionally looking up to watch Frank putter around at the stove as he prepared breakfast. It was the 24th of December and they were home in Jersey for the holidays and already it shaped up to be a better Christmas holiday than the years before.

Frank was mixing eggs in a bowl, all the while humming a Rage against the Machine song, slithering around on the linoleum floor in his socked feet. Gerard thought that he probably shouldn't find it so endearing that his boyfriend was wearing a red and a blue sock, but then again, he would never not like to look at Frank hopping around the kitchen in boxer shorts and a moth-holed tee.

At his feet, Buzz gave another whine and nipped at his finger, clearly demanding his attention and more of the bacon, her wrinkly face and sad eyes looking up at him with an extremely tragic expression.

“Just one more,” he said, handing her the last of the bacon, and watching as she wolfed it down in one swallow.

She had kept them up all night, restless and energetic and pretty determined about not wanting to sleep on her nest of pillows but in their bed. He couldn't be mad though – she was the sweetest thing. They had fetched her from the kennel 3 days ago – she was his and Frank's Christmas present to each other. As long as Gerard had known him, Frank had always wanted a dog. Now that they had moved back in together, getting a dog seemed like the right thing to do.

“You're totally spoiling our dog,” Frank said, leaning against the table next to Gerard and stealing his cup of coffee to take a sip. “She's going to get fat.”

Gerard raised his eyebrows at him. “I'm spoiling her? You kept letting her slip under the blanket so she could lick my feet, which is so not cool.” He reached out, poking Frank's skin through the hole in his t-shirt, grinning when Frank jumped away from his teasing fingers.

“Yeah, I also made her sleep when it really counted,” Frank said smugly, giving him a heated look.

Well, Gerard had to give him that.

Gerard pulled Frank into his lap on the kitchen chair, sliding his hands underneath his shirt to skitter his fingers over his belly. When Frank laughed and tried to move away from his dancing fingers, he pulled him in and pressed a kiss to his mouth, biting teasingly at his lip ring. On the floor, Buzz was yipping, for once not the center of attention.

“True,” Gerard finally said, pulling back. “Also, you get bonus points for making pancakes.”

“Hah,“ Frank snorted, “aren't you lucky you got me.”

“Best boyfriend, ever,“ Gerard confirmed, letting Frank get up from his lap. “Although one could argue that you're simply trying to make something that you can eat, before my mother gets up to feed you her Christmas special – Pancakes à la Coal.“

“Who said something about pancakes?“ a voice asked from the door, and Gerard twisted around in his chair to find his brother stand in the doorway, his daughter in the crook of his arm, looking tired and rumpled.

“Me!“ Frank said, sidestepping Buzz who was tailing him now, obviously convinced she would get more food if she was just persistent. “I'm gonna make pancakes.“

“Thank God,“ Mikey sighed, stepping inside the kitchen. “I need pancakes like I never needed anything before in my life. Well, maybe coffee.“ He stopped next to the kitchen table and picked up Gerard's coffee, gulping the content down in one go.

“Didn't sleep much, huh?“ Gerard asked, taking in the dark bags under his brother's eyes.

Mikey shook his head. “She needs feeding every couple of hours.“ He glanced sadly into the now empty cup, before shifting Anna on his arm. “You wanna hold her? I'm gonna get more coffee.“

Carefully, Gerard took his niece from Mikey, settling her against him the way Alicia had shown him. She was looking quite alert and content, her blue eyes glancing at him earnestly. He smiled, reaching out to stroke her small, curled up fingers.

“Good morning, AnnieWay,“ Frank said softly, stepping closer and pressing a kiss to the crown of her blonde hair.

“I told you not to call her that,“ Mikey complained from where he was standing at the counter, filling up Gerard's cup of coffee and fixing another one for himself.

“Seriously, MikeyWay, you name your daughter Anna and expect people to not follow your good example?” Frank asked, straightening from his crouched position and grinning mischievously at Mikey.

„It's a setup,“ Gerard confirmed mock-earnestly, still looking down at his niece, endlessly fascinated by her tiny eyelashes.

„I didn't realize you could do that with her name, okay?” Mikey admitted with a sigh, depositing a cup of coffee in front of Gerard on the table, before sliding into the chair opposite Gerard.

„You could call your next child Avery,“ Frank snickered as he heated vegetable oil and distributed it evenly by canting the pan with a practiced hand. „AveryWay would fit nicely with AnnieWay.”

Mikey shot Gerard a long-suffering look, clearly implying what he thought of Frank's suggestions. „To think I helped you guys get back together…” He looked pointedly over at Frank before continuing, “And I moved your sorry ass twice in the last couple of months. Twice.”

„You love me,” Frank called cheerfully. The oil hissed as he poured batter into the pan. „Also, G doesn't think my ass is sorry.” He swayed the body part in question in a way that made Gerard bite down on his lips to stop his laughter.

„Yeah, G has bad taste, it so doesn't count.“

„Hey,“ Frank said, turning and brandishing his spatula at Mikey like a weapon, batter dripping down onto the floor, „you don't wanna get on the bad side of the only person in this family who is a decent cook.“

He apparently hadn't realized what it was he had been saying, because he ranted on about how they would all starve to death if he didn't bring Alicia and Mikey some of his pasta sauce once in a while, but Gerard had, and Frank's words filled him with quiet pleasure. He glanced over at his brother who caught his gaze and smirked back at him.

Yes, this was definitely going to be a better Christmas than the years before.

Chapter 1  
Mid-October, 1993, New York City.  
Gerard didn't hate Halloween, not really. There had been a time when he had loved it, when it had been something to look forward to and celebrate, but nowadays Halloween was just that time of the year when he remembered all the good times long gone and got drunk while hanging around at some party in a corner, singing the blues.  
Maybe at 26 he was way too young to long for the past, but truly, Halloween had been shitty these past years, shitty and kind of lonely, no matter how many parties he had been invited to. When Dany, his colleague from work, had invited him to see a movie together, he hadn't thought anything of it – she was a geeky redhead from the lab with a love for art house cinema and weird sci-fi and as far as he was concerned, her choice of movie couldn't possibly do any harm.  
He hadn't expected to find himself stand outside the Metro looking up at a marquee announcing Tim Burton's “The Nightmare before Christmas”, though.  
“I thought this looked like fun”, she explained, beaming at him from behind the thick woolen scarf wrapped twice around her neck. “I read a review and I wanted to check it out. I'm really into stop motion”. Her tone of voice made it clear that she believed she made a great choice and expected for Gerard to approve a 100%.  
Gerard threaded a hand through his hair and tugged harshly while he tried to work on his enthusiasm. “Oh yeah,” he hastened to say, trying to sound excited by raising his voice and hoping he didn’t sound fake, “I totally wanted to see this!”

He seemed to succeed, because Dany looked relieved, huffing out a breath, which made Gerard feel a lot better for indulging her. “Glad you approve,“ she said, the tiny lines around her eyes crinkling some more as her grin grew even wider. “I mean, it's about Halloween, it ought to be good. Who doesn't like Halloween, right?“

Yeah. Who doesn't?

Gerard dug his teeth hard into his bottom lip and smiled, despite how every fiber of his body screamed out for him to protest. It was definitely not the time to tell her that he was kind of the Grinch who loathed Halloween. He just had to get through his own personal, completely irrational discomfort.

Gladly, Dany didn't pick up on his mood, because she was happily chatting away, revealing that she was a bit of an expert on Tim Burton, which was kind of a surprise for Gerard, because he hadn't expected her to even like Burton. He listened as they stood in line at the ticket booth, shivering in their coats in the ice-cold October air, occasionally commenting on something she had said, but letting her lead the conversation, while steeling himself against what he had heard was definitely a Halloween-themed movie. He could do this without thinking about _him_. He could, he so could.

Gerard bought them popcorn and cokes at the concession stand, while Dany went to the bathroom. When she came back, looking harassed – as usual, the line in front of the ladies’ room was horrifyingly long - they made their way into Cinema B, balancing their food and drinks as they weaved through the rows to find their seats.

Gerard dropped down in his soft, lumpy velvet seat, stowing away the coke and handing over the popcorn to Dany, looking around at the other people getting seated, some shrugging out of their heavy winter coats. In front of them, a teenager accidentally spilled a bucket of popcorn over the seats, making his friends howl in frustrated annoyance at his clumsiness. Gerard grinned to himself as he watched them dive for the spilled popcorn, trying and failing to push it back into the bucket.

Despite the upcoming choice of movie, he felt the familiar sense of well-being spread through his body as he settled deeper into his seat. It never mattered what kind of theater he was in – whether it was a stylish new place or a moth-infested one-screen movie palace from days long gone, once he sat down, he was overcome with contentment. He just liked being at the movie theater – it was like a home away from home, a home he could have everywhere and that existed everywhere in the world. He remembered when he had been to Paris, delivering an old silent movie to a film institute, and how he had gone to the cinema in the evening to not feel so alone in a foreign city. His French wasn't that good and he hadn't understood everything, but the mere sensation of sitting in the movie theater and breathing in the familiar popcorn saturated air had been enough to make him feel more at home.

Dany picked up on his happy sigh, because she turned to him, knocking her elbow into his, grinning, when he twisted in his seat to look at her.

“What? I love this,” he defended himself, refusing to feel embarrassed. “You know, the moment the lights go down and everybody goes quiet and let themselves enjoy the magic of cinema. Tell me you don't feel it!”

“Actually,“ she said mockingly, “it's just technology. Mechanics. Machinery. Some Xenon lamps.“

Gerard snorted softly and rolled his eyes. “You shouldn't let your job get in the way of enjoying movies,“ he protested.

“Gerard Way, always the romantic,“ she teased, slapping his arm.

“It's because you're always in the laboratory,“ he complained, and once he got going on the topic, he couldn't stop himself. “You should screen movies for crowds, then you wouldn't talk like that. You guys kind of lose your touch with what's on the film stock you're restoring. You're just thinking about the strip properties, never the content. Films aren't just there to be kept and stored away so they won't deteriorate. What's the use of preserving film that no one is allowed to see?“

“Oh my God, we're back to the debate on principles,“ Dany groaned, but she was laughing.

The lights dimmed and Gerard refused to answer her, knowing it was a pointless discussion, one they'd had a thousand times before. Instead he leaned back and thought about the projectionist booth upstairs, the whirring of the projectors, the slide of the film on the platters, the stuffy warmth produced by all the machinery. He saw himself walk down the corridor, imagining checking up on the projectors, making sure the film was displayed right and there was no trouble in the pick-up, before moving on to the next one.

Since studying at TISCH and starting to work at the Museum of the Moving Image, he had been able to work on a multitude of different projectors, from ancient carbon-fuelled ones from the 30s to modern equipment. He enjoyed his job because it allowed him to screen movies on the projectors they were intended for. His love for all different kind of projector systems and his intimate knowledge of old projectors and how they had to be maintained had gotten him the offer to join the film education team of the museum as well, something he had readily accepted, because it meant sharing his love for cinema with kids. Teaching was a completely new experience – he had always been more of a social recluse, but he felt himself opening up when he was allowed to talk about things he loved and he ended up enjoying teaching more than he could have ever thought possible.

Amazingly enough, Gerard ended up loving “Nightmare before Christmas“. He loved everything about it, the characters, the stop-motion technique, the music, the imagery and the love for morbid detail. For a while, he could even forget that Halloween was supposed to make him feel restless and nostalgic and sad.

When the movie was over, they sat through half of the ending credits, talking quietly. Dany – ever considering the technical side – was of course elaborating about the perfected stop-motion technique and how it had surpassed her expectations.

“This is really a technique come back to life,“ she said happily. „When you think about it historically, this technique had been used up to the 70s but then was kind of forgotten in favor of computer animations.”

“Hmmmm,“ he agreed, pushing himself up from the chair. She was right of course, it was interesting to see young film makers go back to the roots of stop trick animation, but he rather wanted to talk about the story, not the technique used to tell it. Even though he had put the emphasis of his studies on film preservation he was still able to enjoy a movie without thinking about everything that was needed to get it on the big screen. It was a certain kind of innocence which he sometimes thought some of his colleagues had lost.

They followed the crowd outside, shuffling slowly after the other moviegoers leaving the theater. Gerard wrapped his scarf around his neck and steeled himself against the expected drop in temperature when they stepped through the front doors and out into the street.

While they had been inside, it had started to snow, large, pristine flakes tumbling down from above, coating the wet pavement and turning to gray slush. It was a fucking freakstorm. Snow in October, in Manhattan. In a corner, partly shielded from the icy wind, the smokers huddled together, lighting up. Gerard fished his cigarettes out of his pockets and offered the open pack to Dany. She took one, even though she rarely smoked, and he lit it, before ducking his head and lighting his own, almost igniting a strand of his dark hair.

They joined the crowd of smokers underneath the marquee, and Gerard turned to face the snowy street, blowing a cloud of smoke and icy breath towards the heavens. Dany settled in next to him, seemingly content to just smoke as well, her gushing academic outburst momentarily put aside.

Gerard closed his eyes and sucked on the cigarette, thinking about what he would do when he got home to his apartment in Brooklyn. Maybe he would turn on his computer and play Indiana Jones and The Fate of Atlantis. It was a good thing Mikey was working in games and always brought home the newest releases.

He was ripped from his contemplation, when a hand landed on his arm. “G?“ someone said questioningly from his left, and Gerard blinked his eyes open, turning to face them.

“Gerard? - Oh fuck, hi!“

Gerard blinked again, staring down at Frank's wide-eyed face. It was Frank. Frank with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, a startled, surprised thing of a smile, genuine and toothy. His fingers were wrapped around Gerard's upper arm, resting on his coat in fingerless gloves. His hair was long – really long, curling around his ears and falling down to his shoulders, sticking out from under a wool cap. He wore an army coat that was much too big on him and baggy, completely shredded jeans.

Gerard figured he ought to say something, anything, give voice to all of the questions suddenly racing through his mind, but he didn't know where to start. The movie was fucking perfect for Frank. Of course Frank would go to see it. Gerard couldn't help but wonder who he had gone to see it with. Family? Boyfriend? ( _Please, I don't wanna meet his boyfriend..._ ) Just a friend? What was he doing back on the East Coast, anyway?

He felt as if somebody had knocked the wind out of him, leaving him gasping for breath as he frantically tried to get his brain to work.

“Sean, fuck, look who's here!” Frank called, his eyes not leaving Gerard's face. He was beaming now, from one ear to the other, smile stretched wide, eyes impossible huge.

Gerard ripped his eyes away from Frank's face with some difficulty when someone stepped up to them. He was painfully aware of the fact that he hadn't yet uttered a single sound.

“You remember Sean?” Frank asked, his hands finally slipping from Gerard's arm.

Yeah. Yeah, Gerard remembered Sean. He had been the drummer in one of Frank's old bands. They shook hands. “Hey, how's it going?” Sean asked, as if they had just seen each other the day before.

Gerard remembered his manners, his voice, and the fact that he had come here with someone else as well, and he stepped aside, pushing Dany forward gently. “This is Dany, a colleague from the museum I work at. And, these are Sean... and Frank.”

He took a step back as they all introduced themselves, one hand coming up to rub at the suddenly itching back of his neck. He felt totally out of his depth, unable to help stealing glances at Frank. Just looking at him made him feel flustered. Frank had gotten his lip – and nose – pierced, and for a brief moment Gerard remembered the hot, wounded sounds Frank had made when Gerard had sucked on his pierced earlobe. Would Frank still sound the same if Gerard - ... no. No. Gerard shook himself and took a deep breath. There were more important things to think about right now.

He nearly shrank back when Frank stepped closer again, crowding into his personal space, taking a drag from his cigarette as he studied him.

“Hey you,” Frank said, beaming up at him, a curl of smoke rising from the corner of his mouth.

The question that turned out to be the most important one tumbled out of Gerard's mouth, uncontrolled. “What are you doing here?” Gerard blurted out, unable to help himself. “Aren't you supposed to be in Seattle?”

Frank blushed a bit and ducked his head. He shrugged, his too big coat shifting awkwardly on his small frame. “Things weren't going so well. Our second record totally tanked,” he admitted.

“Oh.” Gerard bit his lip. “I'm sorry,” he offered lamely. He was sorry, but at the same time he felt a kind of grudging satisfaction. If it hadn't been for that stupid band...

“When are you going back?” he asked, shoving his freezing hand into his pockets. Despite the huddle of people around him and the fact that Frank's presence made him flustered, he was feeling the chill of the wind.

If possible, Frank looked even more abashed, because he shifted clumsily from one foot to the other, taking some time to raise his eyes to Gerard's face. He sucked on his lip, pulling the ring that sat at its corner into his mouth, looking twitchy. “Actually,” he said haltingly, “I've moved back here.“

“What?! When?!” Gerard asked, honestly astonished. Ash dropped from his cigarette onto his coat, but he was too overwhelmed with a few things to take care of it. Frank had moved back East. His band had broken up. He was still tiny and gorgeous.

Frank looked really unhappy for a moment, as if he was actually hesitant to answer Gerard's question, shifting once more from one foot to the other. “Three months ago,“ was what he finally said, huffing out a breath that made him sound defeated, like he had been forced to unwillingly give intelligence on something he didn't want to reveal.

Three months ago. Three months ago! Frank had been back for three months. How had he not known about this!

“Oh,“ Gerard breathed out softly, the sound totally contradicting the frantic noise in his head.

“Yeah, I spent a couple of weeks with my Mom, but Lisa Toro knew some guy who was looking for a roommate in Hoboken. I'm moving in at the beginning of November.”

Lisa, Ray's sister. Ray was so dead. Come to think of it, if Ray knew, Mikey knew. MikeyWay was so dead. His traitorous sister-in-law was so dead. He would slaughter the lot of them. Did everyone know?

“Hey guys,” Dany interrupted Gerard's gloomy thoughts of revenge, “me and Sean were thinking we should get out of here and go somewhere warm?”

“Awesome!” Frank said immediately, but Gerard shook his head.

“Uhmmm... I... kind of have to finish a paper for work,” he lied. “I gotta hand it in tomorrow. Deadlines, you know.” God, he wished there was a paper, so he could focus on something other than how his gorgeous ex-boyfriend was back in town and everybody had failed to tell him about it.

“That’s a shame,” Frank said softly, blinking.

His face brightened instantly, though, and Gerard could practically see his brain working. It was fucking endearing and completely transparent, because he knew Frank. He knew him so fucking well that he could read every tiny change in his face. The little furrow between Frank's brows made him wary – it meant trouble.

“Gimme your marker,” Frank said, extending his hand out, palm up. Gerard was so taken aback that he did as Frank had requested, taking the sharpie out of his inside pocket. Of course Frank would know that Gerard never left the house without a pen.

“All right,” Frank continued, uncapping the black sharpie with his teeth. “I will give you my number so we can get together some time, yeah?” he asked, his voice a little muffled by the clench of his teeth around the pen cap.

Before Gerard could say anything to that, Frank had reached for his wrist, pushing Gerard's coat and consequently his sweater up, revealing the pale inside of his forearm to the cold air. The marker tickled as Frank scrawled a couple of messy numbers on Gerard's skin. Frank's thumb where it lay on his pulse point was hot, while the rest of Gerard's exposed skin broke out into goose bumps.

Frank recapped the sharpie, then let go of Gerard's arm, allowing Gerard's clothes to fall back into place.

Gerard still stared down at his arm, feeling slightly violated but also turned on. Fuck, but did Frank know that Gerard was now thinking about that one weekend they had spent in bed and during which Gerard had covered all of Frank's body in tattoo designs, from his ticklish feet up to the column of his neck? Did he remember how it had rubbed off when they had fucked and Gerard had redrawn the designs twice over again?

He looked up and met Frank's eyes, and Gerard shivered under his gaze.

With a soft smile, Frank handed over the sharpie, not bothering to wipe off the cap where his teeth had left a pattern.

 _Fuck you,_ Gerard thought, suddenly angry with himself and at how he was reacting to Frank's presence as if not a day had gone by. _Fuck you, you left me almost 4 years ago. I should be so over you._

“I gotta go,” he said, taking a last drag from his cigarette before dropping it at his feet. He shoved his hands back into his pockets, rubbing his cold fingers against the insides of his pockets to warm them.

“G, listen-“ Frank said, sounding as if he wanted to protest. Gerard gave him a warning look, knowing Frank would be able to read it, and as expected, Frank took a step back, biting his lip.

Gerard said his hasty goodbyes to Sean and Dany, who were both beaming at each other, flirty expressions on their faces. Great. Yeah, he totally had to get out of here, because if there was one thing he wouldn't be able to stand it was watching his friends fall in love while he had to suffer through an evening spent with Frank.

“Call me,” Frank said. “We can have coffee or something.”

Gerard nodded, then gave a little wave before turning and joining the fray of people on the sidewalk. He braced himself against the cold wind, cupping his hands in front of his face as he lit another cigarette with shaky fingers.

He walked blindly, not even feeling the chill, just concentrating on smoking, a million thoughts racing through his mind. When he found a telephone booth, he dropped the cigarette at his feet and stepped inside, dialing Mikey's number with trembling, stiff fingers.

Mikey picked up the phone after three rings.

“Why didn't you tell me he was back in town, you asshole!” Gerard barked angrily, before Mikey could even finish his hello.

There was silence at the other side of the line, until Mikey said, his light tone at odds with Gerard's sharp voice, “Are you talking about Frank? Wow. A city with more than 7 million people and you ran into Frank.”

“Fuck yeah, I ran into Frank!” Gerard snarled, then sagged against the side of the telephone booth, looking out at the street. Small white perfect flakes were floating outside, carried up and down and left and right by the wind. It looked so peaceful, a sharp contrast to the turmoil in Gerard's mind.

“Uhmm...,” Mikey said hesitantly, then he said in a lower voice, “Gerard wants to know why we didn't tell him about Frank.” Gerard rolled his eyes, listening as someone messed with the phone, the cord scraping noisily against a surface.

“Hey, G,” Alicia's chirpy voice came from the other side of the line. “I put you on speaker.”

“Just fucking great,” Gerard groaned, hitting his forehead softly against the cool glass of the phone booth.

“Well... about Frank,” Mikey started, only to be interrupted by his wife.

“I guess we were hesitant to tell you, because... you get kind of twitchy when someone mentions him,” Alicia continued, sounding as if she was trying to explain something to a very small child. You could tell she was working with kindergarteners – it was starting to rub off on her.

“Like... asshole-twitchy,” Mikey added.

“That's bullshit,” Gerard protested. “I don't.”

“Yes, you do,” Mikey sighed.

“Remember last Christmas?” Alicia asked, and Mikey said, “When Mom met Linda Iero at the Christmas market?”

Gerard remembered last Christmas, but he really didn't want to talk about it. God, those two were really annoying with how they continued each other's sentences. They were totally double-teaming him, too.

“You're lucky you're pregnant with my niece, Alicia,” Gerard growled, “or I would throttle you. But I can't promise I won't kill Mikey. I feel some righteous brotherly rage right now.”

“You were such a bitch to Mom when she told you what Frank was up to,” Alicia continued, completely ignoring his threats. “You kind of ruined the Christmas mood by yelling and storming out!”

“Yeah, you were an asshole to Mom.”

“I was not!” Gerard complained, but he knew that he had been less than nice to his Mom at their last Christmas dinner. But she really didn't make it easy for him, either. She sometimes made it out as if it was his fault that Frank had left and she was bereft of her perfect son-in-law. When he had brought Peter home the year before, she had continuously addressed him as Frank, and he was pretty sure she had done it on purpose.

Deciding to let it go, Gerard hit his head against the glass of the booth again until it rattled, feeling his anger ebb away. “It was really bad,” he said in a small voice. “He gave me his number.” He pushed up the sleeve of his coat, staring at the familiar, messy scrawl on his forearm.

“Oh, honey,” Alicia cooed softly. “Why don't you come by? We can talk. I'll give you a hug. You sound like you need a fucking hug.”

Gerard sighed a bit. Alicia's hugs were really good. She gave the best hugs.

“And when you come over, drop by the Chinese place and bring some food,” Mikey said.

“Oh, yeah!” Alicia said. “Bring the fried duck.”

“And spring rolls.”

“Okay,” Gerard sniffed, feeling pathetic and sorry for himself now that his anger was gone. He could drop by Mikey and Alicia’s – they practically lived across the street, which was convenient. Chinese take away sounded good too. It really figured that Mikey would marry the one woman whose cooking was even worse than their Mom's.

He hung up, staying in the phone booth a little while longer, taking a couple of deep breaths. He hated the fact that he knew that Alicia and Mikey were right – he did explode every time someone mentioned Frank. Because what had happened between them still stung.

They had been fine. Everything had been peachy. And then Frank had received the offer to join a Seattle based band. The resulting fight – the first big one – had lasted four days and the memory of it was a bit of a blur of lots of yelling, lots of sulking in opposite corners of their small apartment, a spectacular attempt at a make-up fuck, some tears, wild accusations and so much talking about their respective future plans, that Gerard had had the feeling that they had forgotten what they were fighting about. In the end, Frank had packed, calling their possible career paths „contradicting and incompatible” and had moved out. He had taken the plane to Seattle three days later, leaving Ray to get the rest of his stuff to store at his mother's house in Belleville. It had been a very shitty move.

Gerard pushed open the door to the phone booth and stepped out onto the street. The light snowfall had gained strength, and he pushed himself against the wind, hoping to make it to Alicia's and Mikey's place before it got worse.

*-*

It had been almost four weeks since Gerard had met Frank at the movies. He still hadn't managed to have the guts to call him. He had agonized a lot about what would happen when they met again, and it was driving him up the wall. Mikey and Alicia's well-meant counseling sessions weren't helpful either. It was partly that he was still angry, but also because he was fucking scared. What if Frank wanted to be friends? He couldn't be friends with Frank. They had never been friends, he couldn't start now. They had been so much more. When it came to Frank, Gerard would never just take second best.

The days passed and Frank's number on his arm faded, even though Gerard refused to shower until the last possible moment, because he couldn't bear to wash it away. Whenever he looked down at it, he remembered Frank's touch on his wrist, his cold fingers hard on his pulse point, the ticklish sensation of the wet marker on his skin. By the time the number had finally faded and become unreadable smudges, he knew them by heart.

He tried to tell himself that he should just forget that Frank was back East. Only he couldn't. It seemed almost as bad as when Frank had left for Seattle. Sometimes he was so fucking angry he just wanted to punch things. Sometimes he missed him so much it hurt, bringing with it all the old pain he had thought had faded to a dull ache by now. Other times he thought he would go crazy with the desire to talk to him, or touch him. He spent his evenings in front of the TV, watching pointless drivel and feeling heartbroken. He wasn't sure how he could still feel like this after four years.

Still, his life moved on. And then the first issue of the second volume of his comic book was coming out and all of a sudden he found himself swamped with press interviews and meetings.

He had started to earnestly consider pitching the story to a comic book publisher three years ago. After Frank had left, he’d had an awful lot of spare time on his hands. Developing a story for his comic had been a means to occupy his time, but it had turned out to be the start of a second career as a comic book artist. The first issue, “Fun Ghoul and the Case of the Undead Cheerleader“, had won a couple of awards and had sold nicely. He couldn't live on it yet, and seriously, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to give up his job at the Museum of the Moving Image, but at 26, he was considered as one of the up and coming indie comic book artists, and that was really something to be proud of.

It was a Wednesday in early November and Gerard was signing his newest issue at the Midtown Comics store Downtown, together with a couple of other artists who had released new comic books, among them Jim Lee, who had recently started out solo with his company Wildstorm Productions. The crowd was pretty decent, and even though he was one of the lesser known artists, he wasn't getting bored. He loved getting feedback from fans. It still thrilled him that he could share his art with other people and that an idea that had lived in his head for so long had finally taken on a life of its own. He took his time chatting with the kids coming up to his table, patiently answering their questions and signing their comics.

“Man, thank you for creating a superhero I can identify with,“ a boy with long stringy hair and in a Bad Religion t-shirt said to him, before pushing over a copy of Volume I, Issue 3, “Brrrraaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiinnnnnns.”

Gerard nodded. “I feel spandex is overrated,” he said, smiling.

“Totally,” the boy agreed. “Also, most superheroes don't listen to Black Flag.“

“That's probably true,” Gerard said, amused. „Where do you want me to sign this?“ he asked, looking down at the familiar cover of „Brrrraaaaaaiiiiiiiiinnnnnns“ showing Jack, the teenaged superhero who could raise the dead, his vampire friend Laurenz and Jack's ghost dog,Buzz, as they faced an undead football team. (Gerard was still pretty proud of how the football the quarterback had jammed under his arm was the head of a blonde cheerleader.)

The kid pointed vaguely towards a spot on the right with nail-bitten, grubby fingers, and Gerard signed carefully, before pushing the comic back over the table.

The next person in line was a girl that reminded him vaguely of Lindsey – she had a high pony tail and wore tons of make-up and a tartan skirt.

“Hi,” she breathed, before handing him her comic, blushing a bit. Gerard gave her a smile and she beamed back, flustered.

“What's your name?” he asked, poising his marker over the dirt page.

“Megan,” she said, and he signed her comic “To Megan. Love, G,” before handing it back. She looked down at his signature, flushing some more before she blurted out, “Will Jack get a girlfriend in the next issue?”

“Uhmmm... maybe someday,” Gerard suggested, and she beamed, before moving on.

“Oh please,” the next person in line said, “don't cave under mainstream pressure.”

Gerard blinked, staring at the young man in front of him, his eyes falling to his rather suggestive Batman and Robin shirt (“Poor Batman! No more Dick!”), before dropping to his tattooed arms.

“Who needs a Lois Lane or a Mary Jane Watson when there's already a Dick Grayson?” the boy continued, then shoved his arm into Gerard's face. On the inside of his forearm was a tattoo of Laurenz, his vampire fangs dripping with blood.

“Very nice,” Gerard commented. “Your tattoo artist did a good job.” It was crazy seeing his art on a complete stranger's body.

He signed all of the boy's issues, as well as the special edition volume one. “Keep it gay,” the boy said when he moved on and Gerard snorted out a surprised laugh.

He continued to sign for another half an hour, amazed at all the people who kept coming up to him and who all seemed to know his comic book. Some stayed longer to chat a bit and ask him about his further plans for the series; some just wanted to get his signature.

Another special edition volume one was shoved over the table and Gerard stared at the fingers lying across it. Black nail polish was chipping off each nail and the knuckles were tattooed, spelling out “Hallo“.

“You know, I once said Batman was the coolest superhero ever. I since have changed my mind,” a familiar voice said, and Gerard raised his gaze to find Frank looking down at him.

“You didn't call,” Frank continued when Gerard didn't manage to utter a word, and he sounded a bit pissed.

“Uh...,” Gerard said, frantically looking down the line of people behind Frank, as if he wanted to convey that this was not the time and place. Which it really wasn't. “I had a lot of stuff to do,” he said defensively.

“I saw a poster about you signing here at the comic book store I work part time,” Frank explained, his voice still sharp and disappointed. “I figured I should stop by, get my copy signed.”

Gerard winced, then tugged hard on the comic book until Frank's fingers slid off it. He opened it on the first page, right under the dedications (To F., for the inspiration and all those long nights talking about Fun Ghoul, to M. for never letting me lose sight of my dreams), hesitating, his sharpie poised over the page.

“You should have sent one to me when it came out,” Frank said, still sounding angry. “I've been waiting for this fucking comic book longer than anyone else. I had to accidentally find out you published it when I was comic shopping! Imagine my surprise!”

The accusation was true - Gerard had just kind of postponed sending a copy to Frank until it had been months since the first issue had come out and then he had figured it was too late.

Gerard suppressed a growl, then scrawled his name on the page. “I dedicated the book to you. I bet not many boyfriends who ran off to Seattle to join a band can say that.”

“Oh, wow, a dedication!” Frank said snottily, snatching his book back. “You publish a comic book which features my superhero alter ego and forget to fucking tell me!”

“Frank...” Gerard said, sighing, “Are you just here to fight with me about this?”

Frank huffed an annoyed breath, but his expression softened and he visibly deflated. “I don't wanna fight, G,” he said, looking a bit ashamed as he lowered his head. “I just-“ he paused, raking a hand through his dark hair in frustration. “I don't understand why you didn't call me.”

Gerard didn't know how to answer that. He watched Frank take a deep breath and lean forward, both of his hands resting on the table in front of Gerard, and his mind drifted off, his gaze falling down onto Frank's hands again. Now that they lay next to each other, he could read what was tattooed into his knuckles. His hands, laid next to each other like that, spelled out „Halloween“. The letters on his knuckles looked both foreign and strangely familiar. Gerard wondered what other tattoos Frank had gotten since they had last seen each other. If he concentrated, he was sure he could still picture all of the ones Frank had had in his mind, several of which he had designed himself. He had traced them with fingers and tongue often enough.

“Listen, Gerard,” Frank interrupted his wandering thoughts, “I'm moving into my apartment next week. I'm having a little party on Friday. Will you come?” He looked so earnest, so hopeful, that Gerard didn't know how to say no to him.

“I-“ Gerard started, but he must have looked as panicked as he felt, because Frank interrupted him with his steady, sensible voice, the one that conveyed how very unreasonable Gerard would be to say no.

“C'mon, say yes.”

Someone cleared their throat from behind them. “Hey, I just want to get this signed for my girlfriend. Could you dudes wrap it up?” a young man asked, looking from Gerard to Frank and back to Gerard.

Gerard suppressed the eye roll and turned back to look at Frank, who was still leaning over the table towards him, and Gerard felt himself falter the way he had always done when Frank wanted him to do something he himself wasn't so sure about.

“I’ll think about it,” he allowed, and Frank's mouth twisted into a tiny, triumphant smirk Gerard wanted to wipe off his face. Maybe Frank thought he was hiding it well, but he didn't. His stupid face was like a fucking open book, considering Gerard knew him so well. Frank was probably doing a mental victory dance in his head. Gerard wanted to smack him so bad. Or grab his face and kiss him. At this point, it seemed the same difference.

“Mikey’s coming too, he has my address,” Frank said, slowly straightening, taking the comic book, which Gerard had signed, with him as he pulled back.

Traitor.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll reconsider,” Gerard muttered, hating his brother just a bit.

Frank bit his lip, sucking his lip ring into his mouth, and nodded in a way that made clear that he was refusing to acknowledge Gerard's last words. “I'll see you on the 19th,” he said, and defeated, Gerard watched him leave.

*-*

At first glance, the Belleville Film Palace looked just the same, but once Gerard got closer, the change was apparent. The old marquee had been subtly renewed, the letters were gleaming and polished. The posters and advertisement displays in the huge windows were carefully arranged. When Gerard pushed open the door to the foyer, his nose was assaulted with the familiar smell of popcorn. The lounge area had been altered as well – the old, stained leather booths had been refurnished and a new gleaming bar substituted for the old wooden counter. Still, the feel of the place had stayed the same, homey and with a vague 50s touch.

“We're not open yet,” a freckled teenager called from behind the bar, glaring a bit at Gerard at daring to come in before opening hours.

“I know,” Gerard said, pushing a hand through his shaggy hair, “I'm actually here to see Brian Schechter.”

The kid looked at him with an air of mistrust, taking in Gerard's dirty sneakers, rumpled army bag and pink scarf (Alicia had taken up knitting during her pregnancy) and obviously decided that he wasn't from the IRS or any other institution abbreviated with three letters. “He's in his office,” the kid said, “it's-“

“Thank you. I know where to go.”

The kid glared once more, and smirking, Gerard crossed the lounge towards the manager's office. Despite the changes Brian had implemented over the last couple of years, the Belleville Film Palace still felt familiar to Gerard. He walked the few yards over to the office door, closing his eyes for a second.

For just a moment he was transported back in time. It was 1984 and he had been summoned into Hank Schechter's office. In a couple of minutes, Hank would entrust him with repair work on the 1954 Godzilla movie. On the same day, later that night, he would go down into the lounge to smoke a cigarette and he would meet Frank and fall in love.

Smiling, Gerard reached the door. When he knocked, he found it was open, and he stepped inside. From behind his desk, Brian looked up, a surprised expression making way for a huge smile when he spotted him.

“Gerard!” Brian greeted him enthusiastically, then walked out from behind his desk. Despite his past in the rock’n roll circuit, the years had been kind to him. He still looked much like always had– an array of colorful tattoos, casual clothes and spiky hair, even though some of the dark blond strands were shot through with gray now. His handshake was firm and familiar.

Brian asked Gerard to sit down and he did, in front of the same desk where he had sat so often in the past. He had never really got over the fact that he had found Hank dead at his desk, but with the way the office looked so different now – tidy, airy and organized – it was easier to forget.

Gerard put his army bag on the floor, bending down to search through it for the documents he had brought with him. He and Brian had seen each other quite often over the last couple of months, because Brian had asked Gerard to consult him on the state of the films in Hank Schechter's archive to assess the value of the collection. It had pained Gerard to tell Brian that the state of the archive wasn't the best – some films had received irreparable damage by changes in temperature and air humidity. His advice had been to hand over the entire collection to a state-of-the-art archive where highly specialized restorers could survey and take care of the film stock. Brian's choice had fallen on the Library of Congress, and it pleased Gerard, because it had been his suggestions almost 10 years ago.

“Here's the paperwork,” he finally said, pulling out the documents and pushing them over the table towards Brian. “I filled in what I could with what you gave me –“ he had spent a couple of evenings and weekends going over Brian's files - “but there's some stuff missing, some records of film donations mostly.“

He opened the document at a page indicated with a yellow post-it. “I marked everything that I couldn't fill in. It might take some time.”

Brian heaved a sigh as he leafed through the pages, but nodded. “I feel kind of sad about this. I know you said it’s for the best, but it’s like I’m giving away the last pieces of Uncle Hank.” He paused and glanced up from the papers at Gerard and smiled sadly. “I’ll look into it. When do you need the papers back?“

“Shortly before Christmas would be good, then I can fax it in before the year is over," Gerard suggested. “Think about it like this,” he continued, “the ‘Hank Schechter Collection’ will be available for many, many years to come. I’m sure Hank would have enjoyed that.”

“He would,” Brian agreed. “You’ll get it by Christmas.”

Gerard knew that the task ahead of Brian wouldn't be an easy one and needed perseverance, but he also knew that Brian was extremely dedicated and ambitious. He had taken over the theater as a manager about half a year ago because he claimed that after Bob, no other manager had ever done a good job.

“You know you can call me anytime if you have questions,“ Gerard offered.

“Thank you. I’ll try to get it done in time,“ Brian said, leafing through the papers some more, before neatly collecting them in a pile and placing them on the right side of his desk. He looked up again, stapling his fingers together and smiling. “Are you spending the holidays in town?“

“Every year, like clockwork,“ Gerard confirmed. “We're all at home this Christmas. Alicia's having her baby soon, it should only be a couple of weeks.”

“I expect you guys to be here for the Christmas Special.”

“Silent Night, Horror Night?“ Gerard asked, unable to keep the excitement from his voice.

“Reanimated,” Brian confirmed. The last manager had decided to change the Christmas tradition at the Belleville Film Palace, claiming it wasn't “family friendly“, instead opting to screen cheesy Christmas movies.

“That's awesome. Man, I remember the first one,” Gerard sighed, feeling nostalgic. “Bob always had the best ideas.” It had been one of the best Christmases ever as far as Gerard had been concerned. After dinner he and Mikey had met up with the others at work, and they had screened movies until midnight. Afterwards, they had celebrated Christmas morning about five hours too early in the movie theater's lounge. The night had ended with Gerard sneaking Frank into his room in the basement. Gerard remembered falling asleep with Frank passed out on his back and snoring softly into his ear and waking to the sounds of his mother puttering about in the kitchen with Frank still pressed against him, naked and beautiful and warm. It had been their first Christmas together, and one of the best.

“Bob did have the best ideas,” Brian agreed, sighing a bit, before smiling. “I'm so fucking proud of that kid. Right now he’s traveling from one film festival to the other –he was in Munich for a sci-fi and horror festival last month. Can you imagine? Bob, the star curator.”

“Actually, I can imagine,” Gerard said, grinning, eyes traveling over Brian, taking in the way he looked so completely content behind his desk. He wondered, not for the first time, if Brian managing the movie theater hadn't been inevitable. For all Brian's past talk about how he couldn't return to Belleville and how much he never wanted to take over his family’s cinema, he seemed to feel okay about how things had turned out. Then again, now that Gerard knew Brian a bit better, he could relate to where Brian’s feelings about small town restrictions came from. When Gerard had found out that Brian was in fact gay, some things Brian had said to him about not fitting in and being judged in a town like Belleville had kind of clicked into place. Meanwhile, Brian seemed to have made his peace with things.

“And you? Is your boyfriend coming home for the holidays?“ Gerard asked.

Brian smirked. “He should be back from tour soon, and he's bringing his daughter.” Brian's boyfriend of five years or more was a touring musician and was even more heavily tattooed than Brian himself.

“Nice.”

„You bringing anyone this year?”

Gerard bit his lip and shook his head, once more thinking about the disaster with Peter two years ago. He still felt bad about it, even though they had split up shortly after the New Year. “Nahh. With Mikey and Alicia, Alicia's Mom and the baby, it's going to be full house anyway.”

“I can't believe your scrawny little brother is going to be a father.”

Gerard laughed and shook his head. “Me neither. Will be kind of a new experience for him. Instead of shooting shit up in video games, he's going to be wiping up poop.”

Brian snorted. “Makes me feel fucking old, seeing you kids all grown up.”

Gerard snorted as well, before pushing himself up with a sigh. “I should get going. I'm invited for dinner at my Mom's house. She's driving me nuts.”

He had been in Belleville since Friday night, visiting his family, and it figured that his mother had been telling him everything about Frank being back. Apparently, she had met Linda Iero for coffee - “What? She's my friend! ”- and was now perfectly informed about the nice little apartment Frank shared with a friend of the Toro’s from the music scene and how Linda had been cooking casseroles of veggie lasagna to fill up Frank's fridge and how Linda was so glad he was back, because she thought he had sounded incredibly unhappy whenever she had talked to him on the phone lately.

“Are you having dinner this early?” Brian asked surprised, looking at the clock over the door curiously.

Laughing, Gerard bent down and picked up his army bag. “You haven't ever had my mother's food. It's kind of a tradition to hit a Burger King before we go over.”

“That bad?” Brian asked, grimacing a bit.

“Unbelievably bad. Frank used to throw up after almost every time.” He hadn't wanted to say it, but the words had come spilling out, clearly prompted by how much he was thinking about him lately, and Gerard scowled and bit his lip.

Brian smiled a bit, before his facial expression shifted to one of badly veiled concern. “You do know that he's back in Jersey, right?” he asked carefully.

“Yeah.”

Brian nodded, seemingly relieved that it hadn't been him bringing Gerard the news. He cleared his throat before tapping his index finger against the documents still lying in front of him on the desk.

“I'm gonna call you when I'm done here or have any questions, okay?”

When Gerard nodded, he continued, “Give my regards to your brother. And tell him, I expect him to be here at Christmas and bring his kid for inspection.”

“Yes, Sir,” Gerard said mockingly and attempted a faux salute.

*-*

Chapter 2

They were half-way up the stairs when Gerard, whose brain had shouted at him in panic for the last two hours, finally decided that no, he really couldn't do it.

“I can't do it!“ he said and stopped on the stairs and was just about to turn around, when Mikey grabbed his collar, holding him back with a sharp tug.

“Yes you can. If I don't get you to this fucking party, my wife is gonna divorce me and then my baby will grow up without a fucking father in its life and you won't get to be an uncle,“ Mikey said, actually sounding reasonable.

“I can't do it. Mikes, don't make me do it,” Gerard moaned, making himself heavy, sagging against his younger brother.

Mikey huffed under his weight, but kept holding on, his grip hard on Gerard's collar and the fingers of his left hand digging painfully into Gerard's upper arm. “Don't be a fucking baby, G,” Mikey hissed, nudging his bony elbow into Gerard's back.

“You are the worst brother, ever,” Gerard groaned, but didn't protest when Mikey turned him around and bodily manhandled him up the last flight of stairs.

“Corrections – I'm the best brother and you love me, because I know what’s best for you even if you don’t,” Mikey huffed into his ear, not even letting go when they were finally standing in front of 213b, Frank's door.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Gerard said, feeling his panic flare up again under the staggering weight of impending doom.

“As long as you are able to quote Star Wars, I doubt it’s that fucking bad,” Mikey scoffed, giving him another nudge.

Loud music filtered through the paint-chipped door from inside the apartment, the bass vibrating through the walls in a way Gerard could feel in his stomach. It made his nerves flare even worse.

“It's Frank, Gerard. Frank,” Mikey murmured patiently. “Not one of the unfortunate guys you tried to date and you wished were Frank. The real deal, you know. Don't be an idiot now.”

Gerard briefly closed his eyes, then nodded, defeated. Mikey was right. It was Frank, and he would do anything for Frank. If Frank wanted to be friends, Gerard would be his friend, no matter if it broke his fucking heart all over again. “I know. I know,” he sighed, feeling the fight go out of his body.

“Good,” Mikey said, sounding content. He slowly let go of Gerard, straightening the lapels of his coat in the process, before he stepped around him and rang the doorbell.

For a few seconds Gerard entertained the hope that the music was too loud for anyone inside the apartment to hear them, giving him an option out at the last moment, but just when he wanted to comment on it, the door was pulled open and Frank stood in the doorway, grinning.

“Oh good, you came!“ he crowed, looking from Mikey to Gerard and back, before stepping forward and pushing up on his tiptoes, giving Mikey a hug.

“I brought someone,” Mikey said unnecessarily once Frank let go and Frank bit his lip and grinned, looking sheepishly at Gerard from under his long fringe of unruly hair.

“Yeah, I can see that,” he said, his voice low and pleased. He stepped towards Gerard and before Gerard could take a step back, Frank was hugging him too, his warm, familiar weight pressed against his chest, breath hot next to Gerard's ear. Gerard stiffened, holding on to Frank awkwardly, before he felt his body relax, his eyes falling shut, savoring the touch for the very brief moment before Frank would draw back.

“I'm glad you're here, G,“ Frank said softly, his breath ghosting over Gerard's ear. He pulled back unhurriedly, his hands slipping from around Gerard's shoulders, the heat of his body retreating.

Gerard stumbled a bit, still too shocked by the sudden full-body contact, and Mikey smirked evilly at him behind Frank's back before clearing his throat.

“You guys want to come in?“ Frank said eventually, prompted by Mikey's cough, scratching a bit comically behind his ear and ducking his head.

Gerard was glad that Mikey was here, because he couldn't have moved on his own. As it was, Mikey tugged on his sleeve, steering him forcefully into the apartment.

“Uhm – drinks are on the counter in the kitchen. You want a beer?“ Frank asked, looking at them but managing to not catch Gerard's eyes. For a moment Gerard felt like a third wheel. Here he was, with his brother and his ex-boyfriend, and he felt like Frank was more Mikey's friend than his. It just felt wrong.

“Yeah, how about I get one for us?“ Mikey said, and before Gerard could protest, his evil asshole of a brother had barged on into the apartment, leaving him standing in the narrow, dimly lit entry hall alone with Frank. Traitor. Fucking traitor. Mikey obviously knew the apartment, which suggested he had been here before. Maybe even helped Frank move in.

“Do you want to hang up your coat?“ Frank asked, sounding strangely polite, pointing to the already overflowing coat rack behind him.

Gerard nodded and started to shrug out of his two scarves and his wool coat, shaking his slightly wet hair – contrary to Mikey he hadn't worn a cap and his hair was curling and damp. Frank reached out to help him and they shuffled around awkwardly in the narrow space. Gerard watched as Frank turned and lifted up on his toes to hang Gerard's coat on the rack, his eyes falling to the gap of skin between Frank's worn t-shirt and the waistband of his boxers peeking out from his low-slung jeans. Dark lines spread on the small of Frank's back right over the slope of his ass, fanning out at both sides and spanning his waist.

Gerard sucked in a breath. That hadn't been there before. Jesus. Unbidden he remembered the taste of Frank's skin, slightly sweaty and sweet in the small of his back and the cleft of his ass. He suppressed the groan that wanted to spill from his lips at the sudden pang of sharp desire. This wasn't good. Not good at all.

“Okaaay,“ Frank said when he turned around, „you want to see the rest of the apartment?“

Gerard swallowed, hoping it was dim enough in the hall that Frank wouldn't be able to read on his face the rather inappropriate thoughts concerning Frank's ass and Gerard's tongue and how Gerard wouldn't mind seeing the rest of Frank to find out what other new tattoos he had.

“It's rather small-“ Frank started, but was interrupted by the doorbell.

“Oh,“ he breathed, snorting out a little laugh. “How about you go on in and I give you a tour later?“ he continued, looking at Gerard beseechingly as if he expected him to just up and vanish if Frank didn't stay around.

“’kay,“ Gerard croaked, secretly relieved that he could move out of Frank's space for the time being. This friends-thing was going to be so fucking hard.

“Catch you later,“ Frank said, grinning, before turning to pull open the front door to welcome the next guests.

*-*

Gerard had ample time to get used to the idea of being in a close space with Frank again, because Gerard and Mikey had been among the first guests to arrive and Frank and his roommate Jimmy had invited a lot of people to their party. The doorbell had been ringing constantly for the last hour and Gerard hadn't been able to catch Frank again.

As the room had started to fill, Gerard had relaxed gradually, unable to feel awkward, because a lot of people – some of which he hadn't seen in years – came up to him, greeting him with genuine warmth. It felt nice and wistful at the same time – they clapped his back or hugged him and told him how good it was to see him again, but he could just tell they were all wondering what the fuck he was doing here.

Among the familiar faces was one very familiar one, unmistakable by the crazy amount of hair. Ray's presence made Gerard feel a lot better.

“I didn't expect to see you here,” Ray finally said after they had caught up with each other, unable to hide the curiosity in his eyes. He lifted his beer bottle to his lips, taking a long swig, his eyes not leaving Gerard's face.

“Mikey forced me here,” Gerard admitted, fumbling with the cigarette he was lighting. He puffed on it, dropping the hand with the lighter and exhaled softly. “He is a traitorous traitor who has been consorting with the enemy.“

Ray snorted out an amused laugh against the rim of his bottle. “So Frank is the enemy?“

Gerard huffed angrily, glaring at Ray, who had as much a part in all this as Mikey and Alicia. “Frank has been back for months and nobody bothered to tell me! Your sister helped him find an apartment, dude!“

“What was I supposed to do? You usually rip everyone's head off if they as much as mention him!“ Ray said, his voice rising high, louder than necessary.

“I do not-“ Gerard protested hotly, but Ray just gave him a look, and Gerard felt his anger evaporate. Yeah, so maybe he did.

“I might have been a bit hotheaded where Frank was concerned-“ Gerard allowed, but was sharply interrupted by Ray's startled laugh.

“I'm sorry,” he apologized for his outburst, “but Gerard, seriously, we’ve been treading on eggshells around you for the past years – it's like a fucking minefield.”

When Gerard just glared, Ray's face softened and he reached out, laying his hand on Gerard's arm to calm him down. “I guess it's difficult when you break up with someone but they’ve been with you for so long that everyone considers them family,” Ray finally said.

Sighing, Gerard twisted and leaned his back against the wall, desperately needing to look away from Ray's compassionate expression, instead searching out his brother across the room, deep in a conversation with Alex from Eyeball records. Mikey's familiar shape calmed him down somewhat, and he sighed.

“I had to get over him,” he said, hoping that would serve as an explanation if not an apology.

“Uh-huh, ”Ray said, sounding a bit doubtful. “I would rather suggest getting over to him, idiot. ”

Gerard followed Ray's line of sight to where Frank was sitting high up on the kitchen counter, swinging his legs and talking to one of Pete's ex-girlfriends.

“Come on, ”Ray said, nudging him in the back. “Go talk to him. It's what you're here for, right? ”

“I'm here because my asshole-brother -”

“- forced you into it, I know. ” Ray sounded amused. “Gerard, just do it. He wants you here – he invited you. He made sure that Mikey swore on pain of death to bring you. ”

“I-”

Ray gave him a little shove, and Gerard looked back for only a moment at Ray's encouraging smile, before he sighed and caved.

*-*

“- and then I decided that enough was enough,” Frank finished his sprawling report of the last few years, parts of which Gerard had known about because other people had related it to him when it happened. “Seattle was great,” Frank continued, taking a swig from his beer, “and look what happened there, a whole new rock movement emerging, but we weren't going anywhere even when a lot of our friends made it and –” he paused, looking conflicted, “I was missing the East Coast so much. I guess I felt like it was time for a change.”

Gerard nodded, playing with the label on his beer bottle. He had managed to scrape it loose with his fingernails, bits and pieces littering the floor between his feet where they were sitting with their backs to the sofa on Frank's living room floor. Around them, the party was still going strong, but here down on the floor, it felt somewhat private, as if it was just the two of them.

Frank glanced at him from under the fringe of his hair, twisting his own bottle of beer in his hands. “So, Mikey told me you got offered a chair at TISCH? How did that come about? ”

Being offered to teach a course at his old university was still pretty amazing to Gerard, and he smiled. “It's not – it's nothing, really,” he said, but Frank obviously didn't believe him, because he was rolling his eyes and nudging his elbow encouragingly.

“- One of my former professors who I TA-ed for is going on maternity leave and she suggested me to continue her courses,” he finally blurted out, unable to contain his pleasure.

“Fuck, that's awesome!” Frank beamed, seeming genuinely happy for Gerard. The expression on Frank's face made something warm and pleasant unfurl in Gerard's belly. “Wow, Professor Gerard Way. That sounds so cool! ” Frank said, his voice full of pride.

Gerard snorted and blushed, pushing a strand of his hair out of his face to tuck behind his ear. „Do you have a strange teacher-kink I've been unaware of?” he asked, amused by the gleam in Frank's eyes. He nearly bit through his tongue once the words were out, wishing he could take them back.

For a moment something blazed in Frank's eyes and Gerard watched Frank's tongue wet his lip, before he said, his voice dangerously low with a hint of dirty, „You always did look good in a suit and tie, Professor Way.”

Gerard tried to ignore the shiver that passed through him and cleared his throat to break the loaded silence, fumbling for his pack of cigarettes which he had put on the floor between them.

“Yeah, well – I guess I have to dress a bit better than this,” he agreed, pointing at his threadbare jeans. He didn't want to look at Frank, so he busied himself with lighting his cigarette and puffing out a cloud of smoke, watching the smoke curl upwards with his eyes.

Frank laughed and it broke the tension, thumping his head back against the couch. “Yeah – the ‘Gerard Way – International Man of Mystery Look’ is definitely more suitable than your ripped jeans.”

“It will be really strange. I rarely have to dress up at my job,” Gerard said, relieved that the awkwardness of before was already gone, chased away by Frank's laugh. “Most of the time I go to work in jeans and t-shirt. Sometimes, when we have a public event and I have to give an introduction, I wear a button-down. I own one suit jacket. And the dark suit, you know, the one I wore at Alicia and Mikey's wedding, but that'd be too formal to give a lecture in.”

Frank snorted into his beer bottle. “Oh my God, their fucking wedding! And Alicia's evil mother. You were so fucking drunk, dude!”

Gerard grimaced and sucked on his cigarette, holding the smoke longer than strictly necessary. He coughed it out, before speaking again.

“I was drunk because Alicia's parents were pissing me off,” he finally said, staring down at his feet.

“Stuck up prudes,” Frank agreed lightly from next to him.

They were silent for a bit and Gerard tried desperately to think of what to say next, because now he was remembering the wedding in detail – his embarrassing speech, his teary-eyed mother, the dirty looks from Alicia's parents when he had kissed Frank on the dance floor, the rather unpleasant talk with Alicia's mother, who had expected him to “tone down his unusual lifestyle choice“ in front of the new family. He had hit the bar after that and then tried to coerce Frank into blowing him in the bathroom (which he had done, because he was Frank, who never denied him anything, no matter how unreasonable). He had also drunkenly announced over the microphone that the marriage laws in the country sucked balls because they didn't allow him to marry Frank. There was just no way he could talk about this wedding to Frank.

“I think it's amazing that you managed to publish your comic book, work the job you always wanted and now you're becoming a professor, too,” Frank interrupted Gerard’s thoughts. He didn't sound jealous exactly, but there was certainly a hint of envy in his tone.

“I'm sorry it hasn’t worked out for you yet,” Gerard offered, glancing at Frank who had propped up his elbows on his knees. There were holes in his jeans showing his bony knees. Gerard could even make out the familiar round scar on his left knee from when he’d taken that tumble down the school steps in his final year and it hit him again how well he knew Frank, how close they had once been.

Frank turned his head sideways, resting his cheek on his forearm. He looked at Gerard, his brown eyes soft and sad. “I had to give it a try, you get that, right?” he said, and he sounded like he was asking for forgiveness.

Gerard knew he was supposed to absolve him, tell him that yes, Gerard understood perfectly fine, but he bit down on his tongue, the old bitterness rising in him again. He turned his face away, staring at the floor between his feet.

A soft touch to his shoulder made him jerk his head up again.

“You would have done the same, had it been you,” Frank said, and he didn't voice it as a question.

It enraged Gerard and he shrugged off Frank's hand. “I would have asked you to work something out with me. I wouldn't have come home to tell you that I've already decided to move to Seattle.” It came out sharper than he had intended and Frank recoiled a bit, drawing his hand back. _Wow, okay,_ Gerard thought, _so I’m still bitter about this._

“I didn't!“ Frank defended himself, sounding falsely-accused, his eyes huge and offended like a kicked puppy.

The expression on his face made Gerard feel even more upset. Frank had absolutely no right to look all wounded and innocent.

“I wanted to work it out with you,” Frank continued, “You never really gave me a chance!“

“And you didn't give me a fucking choice,” Gerard said sharply and got up from the floor, brushing his suddenly sweaty hands on his jeans.

Frank scrambled up from the floor as well, stepping closer. “You didn't want to listen! Whenever I tried to explain and make a suggestion, you got really angry!”

“Yeah well, you basically told me you were going to leave for Seattle!”

“I asked you to come with me!”

“I had a job here!”

“You could have gotten another fucking job!”

“Well, so could have you!”

Gerard had yelled the last bit, and it had carried over the loud music. He was painfully aware that people were looking their way and staring at them. It wasn't exactly like in the movies, when someone raised their voice in a crowded room and suddenly the music dropped away and everyone fell silent, but it was still embarrassing when he looked around and some of their friends were staring at them with mixed expressions of sensationalist glee and worried confusion.

“I don't wanna do this here!” Gerard said, frustrated, trying to ignore the looks and hoping everyone would go back to their conversations quickly.

“Well, I don't wanna do this here fucking either,” Frank growled heatedly and reached out, his fingers circling Gerard's arm so hard it hurt.

He tugged, and Gerard stumbled on the carpet, his burning cigarette brushing against the back of the sofa and breaking off. With Frank gripping his wrist so tightly, Gerard had no choice but to follow.

*-*

He was pushed into a darkened room and he felt momentarily disoriented, stumbling forward and hitting the edge of what seemed to be a cupboard, before Frank hit the lights.

Gerard blinked, looking around to take in his surroundings, a small bedroom furnished with a queen-sized bed, a writing desk, two huge overflowing bookshelves dominating one wall and several guitars leaning in a corner. Even though the furniture was unfamiliar, Gerard recognized it as Frank's room for Frank's scattered possessions. Some of the guitars he hadn't seen before, but there was Frank's beloved white Epiphone Elitist Les Paul “Pansy” on a hook on the wall. The quilted bedspread had been made by Frank's grandmother and it had been on their bed for years. It made Gerard queasy looking at it. On a low shelf next to the bed sat Woofie, Frank's blue childhood toy with the huge ears and incredibly sad eyes.

'You still have this', Gerard wanted to ask, but he was startled out of contemplation by the sound of the door falling shut. He turned around, finding Frank standing behind him, a stormy look on his face.

“Let's talk this out,” he announced, sounding primed for a fight, eyes dark and hard.

Gerard sighed. He didn't feel like talking it out. He didn't feel like fighting either. “Frank,...” he started hesitantly.

“Now let me explain this once and for all,” Frank said, clasping his hands together. “You left me just as much as I left you.”

Gerard stared incredulously. Was Frank aware what kind of shit was coming out of his mouth?

At Gerard's disbelieving expression, Frank nodded. “Yeah, when I told you I had that offer you just fucking assumed that I was gonna leave and you didn't let me explain. You never did offer to come with me, either, so don't play the innocent party here!”

“Well, I was working at-“

Frank huffed out a frustrated, angry breath. “For fuck's sake, does it really boil down to this again?”

“I thought you wanted to talk this out, so let me fucking talk,” Gerard hissed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Fine.” Frank glared and crossed his arms as well, adopting a “I'm waiting” pose.

Gerard took a breath, letting it go slowly to calm down again and find the right words.  
“You just assumed that I would follow you, but you never thought this through. You didn't give me a say in the matter. You didn't give me a fucking chance to look at the options and-,” he said, trying to sound reasonable but thinking he ended up sounding a confusing mixture of whiny and pissed off.

“It was my career choice, of course it's my say,” Frank interrupted him stubbornly.

Gerard huffed. God, Frank was such a jerk. They were having exactly the same fight as four years ago.

„Just fucking let me talk, all right?” he said, annoyed, getting even more so when Frank just set his jaw and glared. “This is exactly why I thought you didn't take our relationship seriously! You were just so fucking self-centered, you didn't think about what moving away would mean to me.”

“That's bullshit,” Frank hissed, sounding angry and hurt. “At that point, you already had a great resume. You could have found a fucking job anywhere. I didn't have anything achieved then – I had dropped out of school, my bands broke up and I was working as a fucking waiter at that time. It was my chance and you fucking knew it.”

Sighing, Gerard dropped down on the edge of the bed, raised his hands to his face and rubbed his suddenly itching eye with his index finger. He was so fucking tired.

“Fuck, Frankie. What did you want from me? You just dropped that thing on me like a fucking bomb. How did you expect me to react? You were demanding that I leave everything behind.” He knew he sounded desperate, but he couldn't deal with all this again. They'd had this fight already; he didn't feel like having it again.

“I thought you'd understand. I thought that you loved me enough.”

Frank's words were like a punch to the gut. Fuck, that hurt. It fucking hurt. Gerard stared at his feet, not knowing what to say to this accusation, not knowing how to defend himself. “That's...,” he started, hating how his voice trembled, “that's a mean fucking thing to say to me.”

He swallowed soundly, considering getting up and leaving. He couldn't do this. It fucking hurt to breathe right now. He couldn't stay here and listen to Frank hurting him all over again.

Frank didn't say a thing and when Gerard finally looked up because he had to know the expression on Frank's face. He was standing across from him, sucking on his bottom lip and kneading on it with his teeth, staring down at Gerard with wide eyes, his face blotchy as his skin color turned from red to pale.

“Do you really think that?” Gerard asked lowly, hating how his voice sounded shredded. “Do you really think that I didn't love you enough?”

Frank stared some more before his face crumbled and he threw himself to his knees, practically skidding between Gerard's thighs, arms coming up around Gerard's neck.

“Fuck, G, fuck, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I said that,” he moaned, pressing his face against Gerard's neck, one hand coming up to pet at Gerard's hair.

Gerard closed his eyes, feeling his body shake. Despite the aggravation he felt, his arms lifted, sliding around Frank's back to return the hug. His face was pressed just underneath the back of Frank's ear, nose buried in his hair. He smelled like he always did, fucking sweet and spicy, and despite feeling so all over terrible, Gerard couldn't help but enjoy the way Frank was pressed against him.

“I'm so sorry,” Frank whispered again, sounding deeply regretful, his fingers carding through Gerard's hair.

“It's okay,” Gerard said, even though it wasn't, really. He pulled back a bit, putting some distance between them.

“I guess I was fucking afraid of leaving with you,” he admitted. “And the way you reacted, I thought your attempt to get me to come with you was...” he tried to find a more gentle way of saying it, “... half-assed. I thought that maybe you didn't really want me to come with you.”

“You're such a fucking idiot,” Frank said, exasperated, sitting back on his heels. “We fought for four days, G, of course I wanted you to come with me.”

“Yeah, we were kind of going in circles.”

“I wasn't sure what we were fighting about anymore,” Frank said softly.

“Me neither,” Gerard admitted. “I can only remember half of it.”

“It's probably better that way. We fight dirty,” Frank agreed, grinning a bit lopsidedly.

His tone and smile made Gerard's lips reluctantly tug upwards. He felt emotionally exhausted, as if somebody had forced him onto a rollercoaster against his will. His mind was a jumble of thoughts and he wasn't sure what to do and think about the mixed feelings of pain, anger, love, desire and regret he was experiencing.

“God, I need a fucking cigarette,” Gerard said, and Frank nodded and jumped to his feet.

“Here, let me - “ Frank said eagerly, pulling out his pack, shaking two into his hand and lighting them for them both.

He handed one over and Gerard accepted it with shaking hands, getting slowly up from the bed. They smoked in silence for a while, occasionally wandering over to the desk to flick ash into the ashtray standing there, not really glancing at each other.

Gerard walked over to Frank's shelf, eyes skimming over the titles.

“Hey,” he said, surprised, “I was looking for that book.“ He pulled out Kerouac's “On The Road”.

“Yeah, it was mine, so I took it.”

“It so wasn't,” Gerard said, laughing a bit.

“Sure was,” Frank insisted.

Gerard chuckled, briefly glanced over at Frank and then pushed the book back into the shelf. He took another drag from his cigarette, letting his fingers linger on the books.. He moved on, craning his neck to look at a collection of toys. He was pleased to see that Frank still had the Frankenstein he had given him.

He recognized more of his books, but decided to let it go. Technically, some of the books and CDs he held in his possession weren't his either – he was pretty sure he had never bought a Beastie Boys CD in his life. (Frank had also taken all the underwear in their drawer – even those he didn't wear - and several of Gerard's favorite shirts with him. At the time of that discovery Gerard had been quite convinced Frank had done it to spite him.) When he had finished his inspection, he turned around, finding Frank watching him while leaning against his desk. Fuck, but he was just so pretty, leaning there with his legs crossed at the ankles, his loose jeans hanging low on his hips, his shirt just a bit too tight. It was pushed up at the shirt sleeves, revealing the ink sprawling over Frank's forearms. Once more, Gerard had the urge to just go over and push the shirt out of the way to see the new art on Frank's body. He wouldn't mind seeing more of his body either, his straight shoulders and broad torso, his compact frame and wide hips, the way dark hair curled low beneath his belly button and vanished down between his legs.

“I missed you,” Frank suddenly said, completely out of the blue, and startled, Gerard nearly dropped his cigarette. When he looked back over at Frank, Frank was glancing at him, brushing his hair out of his face and pushing the strands behind his ear. He was chewing on his bottom lip again, lip rip glinting between his teeth. “I wanted to call you right when I came back from Seattle, but I ... I didn't know what to say to you.”

Gerard took a shaky drag from his cigarette, exhaling soundly. “You never did come visit,” he said, trying to keep the bitterness he felt about this out of his voice, thinking of all the times he heard someone tell him they met Frank in Jersey.

“I never knew how to,” Frank admitted, pushing himself slowly away from the desk. He took another drag from the cigarette, before turning and stabbing it out in the ashtray behind him on the desk. „I didn't want to poke around in old wounds.”

He looked up again when he said it, and Gerard considered him for a moment before he said, “What about now? I hate to tell you, you're poking around in them pretty harshly.”

“I'm here now,” Frank said softly, “for good.”

*.*

Chapter 3

Gerard took one last drag of his cigarette and then stepped forward, moving around Frank's body to extinguish it in the ashtray as well. Frank didn't attempt to step aside and when Gerard wanted to move back again, Frank's fingers closed around his forearm like they had done earlier tonight. He would have fucking bruises tomorrow. Gerard stared down at where Frank's fingers were resting on his arm, the lines of blue on his knuckles dark against Gerard's pale wrist.

He took a step back, shaking off Frank's arm. He didn't want to be friends, but he knew he should want to. He should. He remembered that he had tried to convince himself that if that was the thing Frank offered, he would take it gladly. He wasn't so sure now, not with how he barely could be in a room alone with him without wanting to kiss him, against all his better judgment and in the middle of a fucking unresolved, painful fight.

His words were scathing when they finally came over his lips and he was surprised by the venom in them. “Seriously, Frank,” he said meanly, “do you really expect us to be friends or what?”

Frank stared at him long and hard, his eyebrows drawn together, but he didn't say a word, and Gerard huffed a breath, feeling the pain of rejection fresh as if it had happened yesterday. “For years I don't hear a fucking thing from you and suddenly you come back and expect me to ... what? Why am I here, Frank?”

Frank crossed his arms in front of his chest, his eyes narrowed. “Yeah, Gerard, why are you here?” he asked, tossing the question back at Gerard with what Gerard perceived as an insufferable amount of snootiness.

“Fuck yeah, why am I? Because I fucking don't know why I would want to rehash the end of our relationship. It wasn't fun the first time around!” Gerard said, his voice rising with his increasing annoyance. He really didn't need this. The hurt from before returned with a vengeance and the words spilled out of him, uncontrolled and angry.

“You know, I don't fucking get you. You ask me to come here, you practically beg me-“ he took a step forward, poking his index finger at Frank's chest, “and then you fucking have the guts to start a fucking fight and tell me ... and tell me...” He trailed off but was unable to stop the next words. “How can you tell me you didn't think I loved you? How could you possibly think-“

Frank scowled before uncrossing his arms and advancing into Gerard's personal space. He suddenly seemed taller than he was and Gerard wondered how he did that when in fact he was so tiny it was fucking unreal.

“Fuck it,” Frank suddenly said sharply, fisting his hand into the front of Gerard's flannel shirt.

“Wha-“ Gerard wanted to ask, confused, but then Frank slammed into him, pressing their mouths together, his free hand threading harshly into Gerard's long hair, his other still wedged between their bodies, fingers twisted into Gerard's shirt.

Frank kissed him hard, his fingers painfully wrapped in Gerard's hair and Gerard stumbled backwards, his back hitting the wall. Frank's teeth on his lips were almost vicious and Gerard whimpered and thumped his head back against the wall under the force of Frank's assault. They broke apart panting, Frank's warm breath puffing over his face.

“Frank,“ he said warningly, swallowing, „I dunno-“

“God, you make me so fucking furious,” Frank hissed, interrupting him harshly. “Do you really have no idea? Are you just that fucking stupid? Or is this some kind of revenge thing where you came over just to shove the fact that I can't have you back into my fucking face?”

“Wh... what?” Gerard asked, feeling confused. What was Frank talking about? His lip hurt where Frank had (accidentally?) bit him and he lifted his hand, touching it gingerly.

Frank exhaled a disbelieving laugh. “G, I asked you here because there hasn't been a fucking single day in the last four years that I haven't thought about you.” He paused, letting the words sink in and Gerard watched as Frank rubbed his tattooed fingers over his brows, looking tired and exhausted.

“If you want me to leave you alone, say so and I will,” Frank finally continued, his voice softer, almost pleading. “If you want me to be your friend, tell me and I’ll be your friend. I’ll be your best fucking friend, all right? - But if there's just a tiny fucking chance that you still-“

Gerard couldn't listen anymore, couldn't take Frank's unsteady voice, so he pulled him in, shushing him with a kiss. “Fucking shut up,” he growled against Frank's lips, before he kissed him again, pressing their mouths together.

“Hmmh-Mhmmm,“ Frank mumble-hummed, and Gerard pushed his tongue into Frank’s mouth, swallowing the sound. He moaned at the familiar taste of Frank's mouth, pressing forward some more, his hands landing on Frank's hips where they immediately slipped beneath Frank's t-shirt, fingers skimming over the soft, warm skin of his sides. One of Frank's hands was back in his hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down to meet his lips.

Gerard had been right about the lip ring, because when he worried the skin around it, sucking the metal into his mouth and tonguing at the place where the ring pierced Frank's fleshy lip, Frank shuddered against him, mewling softly, his fingers digging into the soft skin of Gerard's hip through his sweater.

His grip got even tighter, his weight heavier as Gerard continued to lap at Frank's bottom lip, occasionally delivering a soft bite, remembering intuitively how Frank liked to be kissed, slow and deep with just a hint of teeth. When he trailed his lips over Frank's cheek to his neck, Frank let out a low groan, dropping his head back, giving Gerard better access. He bit into Frank's skin, right over the scorpion tattoo, before trailing his tongue upwards to his ear, tasting sweat and salt and the faintest hint of stubble along the way.

“Fuck, Gerard,” Frank groaned, tilting his head and allowing Gerard to slip the tip of his tongue into the shell of his ear. Gerard loved how Frank shuddered, getting weak-kneed and shivery, his pants getting louder and more irregular where they were puffed against Gerard's cheek.

Gerard hadn't registered that Frank had gotten heavier and heavier, pulling him down, until they were on the floor, Gerard on his haunches, Frank in his lap, grinding against him, almost as if he wanted to crawl into him. Gerard was pulled back by his hair, not protesting when Frank angled his head so he could kiss him again. He allowed Frank to take over now, mouth falling open to grant access to Frank's wicked tongue. Cold fingers trailed under his clothes and over his stomach before skidding upwards, palms flat against his pectorals, fingers thumbing his nipples.

He drew back with some difficulty because he needed air, and when he opened his eyes, Frank was looking at him, his face flushed, hair in wild tangles, mouth parted and eyes wide.

“You're so fucking beautiful,” Gerard said, and it wasn't what he had wanted to say, something about What were they doing and Where was this going.

“Fuck you, you're beautiful,“ Frank breathed in response, managing to sound petulant, and Gerard laughed in a way he thought sounded slightly hysterical, before reaching out again.

“You need to be naked,” he said, hands once more sliding under Frank's shirt, taking with them the fabric as he pushed upward. Frank struggled to help and together, they finally pushed his shirt over his head, tossing it over his shoulder to land somewhere in the room.

“Fuck,“ Gerard moaned, pushing Frank off his lap and back so he could take him in, his eyes greedily trailing over Frank's skin, finding so many familiar lines and some not so familiar ones. Frank caught himself on his arms, sprawled between Gerard's legs propped up on his elbows, and he grinned up at him, eyes heated, his loose jeans doing nothing to hide the bulge in his jeans.

“Fuck,“ Gerard repeated, before launching himself forward and ducking his head, attacking Frank's collarbone with his mouth and trailing his lips sideward to his left shoulder, his eyes open and searching out his territory. The Frankenstein he had drawn so fucking long ago was high up on Frank's arm, looking as cheeky and up-to-no-good as always, and Gerard had to close his eyes for a moment, remembering the day Frank had it done. He was back in the projectionist booth at the Belleville Film Palace, a tired, but happy Frank pressed against his front. Back then, everything had seemed so simple. They’d barely been 18 and everything had been still ahead of them. Gerard couldn't remember ever again feeling so damn happy.

He swallowed against the emotions wanting to rise in him, pressing a firm kiss to Frank's tattoo, before trailing his mouth down his arm, noting old and new tattoos, so many of them. He felt regret for all the ones he hadn't been there to see, joy, whenever he found one he had designed himself. He turned Frank's arm once he had found his wrist and continued upward on the inside. He did the same to Frank's other, less decorated arm, refusing to think too much about some of the designs and words etched into Frank's skin because Frank had always worn his heart on his sleeve, quite literally.

When he had ended up at Frank's neck again, Frank hauled him upwards to bite at his lips, before releasing him with a little push. “I know I'm hot, but right now I really would appreciate less looking and more fucking,” Frank growled, hands busy now on Gerard's clothes, pushing them up and out of the way. “At least I thought that's where we were going, because otherwise I'll be fucking disappoin-“

“You're such a pushy little shit,” Gerard interrupted him, catching Frank's wrists between his fingers and stilling his hands. „Maybe I wasn't thinking about fucking you. Don't you think it's all a bit too fast? We should-“

“Oh please,“ Frank scoffed, “now you're just being a cock tease. - You wanted to rip my clothes off the moment you got here,” he said, sounding terribly sure of himself and Gerard hated him just a bit.

“Oh really, how could you tell, you overconfident son of a bitch?”

“I saw you checking out my ass in the hall mirror!” Frank crowed, grinning smugly.

“Maybe I just thought you got fat,” Gerard taunted, and Frank tossed his head back and laughed.

Gerard let go of him and shifted them, bending back down to press kisses on Frank's trembling stomach, following the trail of dark hair down below his navel and lower.

“Fuck, now we're finally getting somewhere...” Frank moaned, lifting his hips from the floor and pushing upward as Gerard started to work on his belt and zipper.

“I got a better idea,” Gerard said, letting go of Frank's open jeans and turning him to the side, deftly biting into the flesh over his hip. For a brief moment, Frank tensed like he wanted to protest, but when Gerard pulled down his jeans together with his underwear and Frank figured what Gerard was about to do, all his cockiness seemed to evaporate.

“Oh, God, please, fucking yes,” he groaned hoarsely, shifting on the floor onto his belly and pushing himself up a bit.

Gerard placed his hands on the warm, soft cheeks of Frank's ass, kneading the flesh gently, before he pressed a kiss to the small of Frank's back, just where the dark lines of his new tattoo ended. He decided to stop his teasing, because he was desperate now, too, desperate to feel Frank's familiar heat. He couldn't quite believe that this was really happening, that this wasn't one of the many dreams he’d had about being with Frank again.

Gerard made his tongue into a sharp point, trailing it down through the crack of Frank's ass until the tip of it found the puckered skin. In front of him, Frank groaned low and desperate, and Gerard took it as encouragement to swipe his tongue over the pucker and around, before he applied more pressure, trying to dip into the tight muscle.

He didn't think about asking again, Frank's breathy moans were all the permission he needed. He knew Frank loved this, loved Gerard's tongue playing with him until he was loose and pliant. He had always enjoyed Gerard's tongue better than the press of his fingers and Gerard knew that if he did this right, it was almost all the preparation Frank needed.

He pushed forward, past the tight ring of muscle, making thrusting motions, his hands on Frank's hips, stroking his trembling skin as Frank rocked back against him. He was just getting into it, humbled by Frank's trust after all this time and how it felt to have him lose it under his hands, when Frank twisted away, dropping to the floor and turning around.

“Enough,“ he panted, his face deeply flushed, his mouth parted, tongue coming out to wet his lips. “I'm gonna come and you haven't even touched my dick yet.“

“Oh no,“ Gerard sat mockingly, sitting up on his haunches, watching curiously as Frank scrambled to his feet, pushing down his underwear and jeans. He hopped around on one foot, trying to kick off his clothes, making his way over to his bed.

Gerard licked his lips, watching as Frank rummaged around in his bedside drawer. He was standing with his back to Gerard, the line of his back taut, his skin a tempting mix of pale and ink, a splash of red on his hips, where Gerard had held him down. When he turned with a bottle of lube in his hands and found Gerard still sitting on the floor, he raised an eyebrow.

“... the hell are you still doing down there? I swear to God, if you're not over here getting ready to put your dick where you promised to put it-“

Gerard pushed himself to his feet, hands falling down to his belt. He pushed down his pants together with his underwear, stepping out of them and getting rid of his socks on his way over to where Frank was still standing, watching him.

He stepped forward, sliding his arms around Frank's body, pressing him close, shuddering at the feel of Frank completely naked against him. Frank's arms came around him, and Gerard buried his face in his neck, eyes closed, breathing in his scent, feeling his heartbeat against his chest.

He pulled back, lifting his hand to Frank's face, carding his hands through his dark, tangled hair, his fingers getting caught in the strands.

“Frankie, I-,“ he started, then trailed off, not knowing how to give voice to what he needed to say.

“Are you having second thoughts?“ Frank blurted out and he sounded anxious and insecure. His cocky attitude from earlier was now entirely gone, making him look small and frail, despite his stocky build and the furious lines of ink on his body.

Gerard closed his eyes and shook his head. “Fuck, no. I just -,“ he opened his eyes again, “I just need you to know before we do this that I feel about you the same way I've always felt about you. I might be angry about what happened, but – it doesn't change the way I feel. Do you understand?“

Frank kissed him then, not giving him one moment to doubt Frank's response to his words. Against his lips, he felt Frank grin, and relieved, Gerard tumbled them down on the bed where they landed in a heap of flailing limbs.

*-*

They kissed until they were both panting again, and when Gerard reached down to close his hand around Frank's dick, Frank trembled against him and pushed up into his hand, his head dipped back. Between them, their sweat made their skin slippery and warm, and when Gerard's hand cramped, he pulled it away, pressing his hips down against Frank's, sliding their cocks together.

When he felt like he couldn't stand it anymore, he pulled away and sat back on his haunches between Frank's legs, reaching for the lube and the condoms on the bedspread next to them. He started with the lube, dripping some onto his fingers, before reaching down between Frank's legs, watching his face as he brushed his fingers against his opening. Frank bit his lips, hissing a bit Gerard touched him, but he made an encouraging sound as Gerard slipped a finger inside. The second finger followed just as easily, and Gerard held them there a moment, enjoying the silken heat of Frank around him. He added a third finger slowly, brushing them back and forth until Frank reached for his wrist, halting him.

“It's okay,” he said. “Just go slow. It's – it's been a while.”

Gerard nodded, drawing his hand back. He reached for the condom, his slippery hands unable to open the wrapper. When he cursed and looked up, Frank was staring at him, his brows knitted.

“If you want, we can -“ he started, a bit embarrassed. “I'm clean, and really - You know I trust you.”

With everyone else this would have felt foolish to Gerard, but he knew the people he had been with over the last four years and apart from the fact that he could count them on one hand, he had never had unprotected sex with anyone but Frank.

He nodded slowly, tossed the condom wrapper over his shoulder to the floor and reached for the lube again to slick up his cock.

Frank heaved out a breath and reached for him, pulling him down and his knees up at the same time. Gerard settled between his legs, and it was so easy, just like he remembered, their bodies fitting together. He lined up with Frank's fumbling fingers around his dick, and when he finally pushed forward, they both groaned. He stayed up on his elbows, staring down at Frank's face for any kind of discomfort, put Frank's mouth was just open and slack-jawed, his lips shiny and wet, his dark lashes resting peacefully on his cheeks.

Gerard felt his body tremble as he held back, not pushing forward but waiting for Frank's permission. Frank slid his hands from Gerard's shoulders down to his hips, fingers digging into the globes of his ass, and pulled. “C'mon, G, c'mon, baby,“ he encouraged, his voice low and rough with heat, and Gerard pressed his hips forward, moaning when he slid deeper and Frank's body welcomed him until their hips met.

Frank's breath hitched, but he wrapped one leg around the back of Gerard's thighs, keeping him close, his hips rising and rolling against Gerard's. Gerard lost it then and they fell into a rhythm, moving together just like the last time they had done this. He didn't know if it was because they knew each other so well, or because they had done it together the very first time either of them had done it, but it didn't matter. He still fit together with Frank better than with anyone else he had ever slept with, their combined movement natural and easy.

He got a hand between them, wrapping his fingers around Frank's cock and stroking, balancing himself with the other. He thought of getting them moved around so he could lie behind Frank and get a good grip on his dick, but he wanted to look down at his face when he came. He picked up the pace when Frank urged him on from under him, snapping his hips forward harder, loving the way Frank's breath caught whenever he hit the right spot. The fingers of Frank's right hand were digging hard into his ass, dragging with every push of his hips. From the frequency of Frank's grunts and moans and the occasional swear word, Gerard gathered that he was close and he doubled his efforts despite the fact that his arms were trembling, muscles straining with the effort to keep them going.

Frank uttered a high-pitched whine before his body bowed up and then stilled completely, toes scratching against Gerard's calf as he spilled over Gerard's fingers. Gerard stroked him through it, bending down to press an uncoordinated kiss to the corner of his mouth. When Frank relaxed, his body slumping back down, Gerard pulled back his hand, hoisted himself up into a more comfortable position and allowed himself to let go. He was close too, had been close ever since Frank had pulled him fully into him, but now Frank was sated and pliant beneath him, and Gerard lowered himself down, his arms coming up to lie on either side of Frank's head. His hips picked up an even more relentless pace and he turned his face against the warm side of Frank's neck, eyes screwed shut.

Frank's hands were on his back, in his hair, urging him on, his voice breathless and hoarse. “Fuck, that's it, that's it, yeah, ... G, wanna fucking feel you come, fuck.“

Gerard came with a shout, white noise washing over him, the pleasure so intense his whole body shook with it. He slumped down, his heart beating fast and loud in his chest. For a while he didn't register much past the sound of his own harsh panting, but when he surfaced slowly, Frank was still petting him. He lifted his head from where he was drooling heavily on Frank's shoulder, and Frank wiped the hair out of his eyes, grinning at him.

“Hey stud,” he said teasingly and Gerard made a half-hearted attempt to roll his eyes.

“Hmpf,” Gerard murmured, before nestling a bit more comfortably into Frank's arms.

For a while they were lying there and Gerard dozed. He was dimly aware that his softening dick was slipping from Frank's body and Frank shifted until Gerard was on his side, head still propped up on Frank's shoulder.

*-*

He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he was aware of was lying on his other side and Frank was on his back next to him, watching him. Frank must have gotten up, too, because he had killed all the lights except for the small bedside lamp.

„Have you been watching me sleep?“ Gerard asked, smacking his dry lips.

Frank snorted, brushing a strand of Gerard's hair back and tucking it behind his ear. “Yeah”, he admitted softly, running one finger over Gerard's brow, before trailing it down his cheek, thumbing over his mouth. “You're cute when you sleep. Big fucking news.”

Gerard tsked and pushed himself up on his elbow. “Sorry I fell asleep on you,” he said, reaching up to rub his eyes.

Frank shrugged and smirked. “That's all right. Guess I wore you out,” he said smugly.

“You wish,” Gerard replied automatically, reaching out to pull Frank closer and kiss him.

“And I’ve been thinking about what I’m gonna do to you next,” Frank whispered once they pulled apart.

“Yeah?” Gerard breathed, feeling a shiver of excitement race through him.

“Yeah,” Frank said hoarsely, his eyes flickering down to Gerard's lips. “I'm gonna start with your mouth – your fucking mouth, Gerard…” he reached out, pushing his thumb against Gerard's lips, his eyes blazing when Gerard bit him playfully, “you wouldn't believe how often I've thought of your mouth.”

“Go on,” Gerard said, his voice equally breathy. “What else?”

Frank leaned forward, brushing their noses together in a tender caress that was at odds with the filthy words spilling over his lips. “I'm gonna fuck your pretty mouth and then I'm gonna turn you over and-”

There was a crash from the corridor, clearly audible even over the loud music still being played outside.

“-the fuck?” Frank asked, frowning and Gerard shrugged.

A moment later, someone pounded on Frank's bedroom door and then they heard Mikey's voice, strangely high and desperate sounding.

“Gerard? You in there? Gerard?”

“Mikey?“ Gerard asked, pushing himself up from the bed.

“G, whatever it is you two are doing – and I’m totally pretending you're gazing lovelornly into each other's eyes and holding hands – you gotta stop right the fuck now and come out here!“

Gerard shared a look with Frank, before slipping out of bed, reaching for the first pair of boxers and the first shirt he found. “I'm coming,“ he called, stumbling over to the door, his limbs uncoordinated and sluggish. Behind him, Frank climbed out of bed as well went in search of his jeans.

Gerard reached the door, pulling it open to find Mikey in front of him, paler than usual but with two bright spots of color high up on his cheeks.

“What is it?” he asked, feeling excitement grip him hard.

“You gotta drive me to the hospital,” Mikey said, voice squeaky. “My baby-girl is coming.”

*.*

Chapter 4

They arrived at the hospital two phone calls and a frantic one-hour drive later. Gerard would always remember the drive as the longest of his life, with his brother sitting in the passenger seat, gripping his own knees with white knuckles grip and Ray and Frank giving him poor advice on traffic routes through Manhattan from the backseat. It was their luck that Alicia had to get her baby on the one night Mikey and Gerard actually were in Jersey and not at home in Brooklyn. (“Lincoln Tunnel,” Ray said. “No, Holland, I heard earlier a couple of lanes are closed on Lincoln,” Frank suggested. “It’s the middle of the fucking night, there’s not gonna be a traffic jam,” Ray protested. “There’s always a traffic jam into Lincoln!”)

Luckily, they found a parking spot right away on the street a little down from the hospital. Mikey didn't even really wait until the car was in park, before he jumped out and legged it up the street towards the hospital entry.

“Mikeyway, wait up!“ Ray called after him, before falling into a jog as well, leaving the car door wide open.

Gerard followed him shortly, kind of proud that in all the excitement he didn't forget to lock his car doors. He turned to Frank who was catching up to him after getting out of the backseat, frowning when he noted that he was in short sleeves, his tattooed arms covered in goose bumps.

“Where's your coat?”

Frank looked a bit sheepish and wrapped his arms around himself, shivering in the threadbare t-shirt he was wearing. “Kind of forgot it.“

“How can you forget your coat?“ Gerard asked, shaking his head.

“This is exciting, okay?“ Frank said petulantly and Gerard snorted.

“It's okay for Mikey to be scatter-brained, he's going to be a father, but you... At least he had the sense to grab his coat before he left.“

“Shut up,“ Frank complained, although it sounded alarmingly more like “Ssh-shh-shhu-ut uuuup.“

Wordlessly, Gerard unwound his scarf from around his own neck and wrapped it around Frank's. He blushed when he noted Frank’s eyes on him, soft and warm, and he cleared his throat, adjusting the end of the scarf so it fell over Frank’s back.

“We should hurry and get inside. Get you warm,“ he said softly, turning on his heel and in the direction of the hospital up the street.

“Wait.” A hand touched his arm, holding him back.

Curiously, he turned, glancing down at Frank, who didn't meet his eyes but was staring at his feet instead. “What?”

It took quite some time for Frank to answer and when he did he sounded embarrassed, the cold making him shiver a bit. “I - I don't wanna go in there.”

At Gerard's confused look, Frank bit his lip and flushed. “Alicia's family will be there,” he said, “And your parents. This is awkward, I shouldn't be here.”

For a moment Gerard was almost tempted to laugh at the expression on Frank's face, but in the end he reached for Frank, placing his hands on his upper arms, right where his shirt-sleeves ended. “No, Frank,” he said slowly, “It's fucking perfect you being here.”

Frank was blushing even more, but now the worried expression on his face shifted to a grin, the corners of his mouth pulling up. “Yeah?” he asked softly.

“Fucking perfect,” Gerard repeated determinedly.

Frank was beaming now, and Gerard smiled back, feeling things shift into place the way they were supposed to.

“I still think I'm gonna need a cigarette before fa-facing your r-relatives.” Frank was shivering now, his whole upper body shaking with the cold.

Gerard slowly pulled his arms away and undid the front of his coat, holding it open invitingly. “Come over here. We can share my coat. You'll get pneumonia.”

He waited until Frank was nestled against his front, before wrapping his arms around Frank.

“Your coat is awesome,” Frank said happily, snuggling against him.

With one hand, Gerard reached into his pocket, pulling out his cigarettes and lighter. He lit one and exhaled slowly, before holding the cigarette out for Frank to take a drag off.

“Wait,” Frank said. “I'm gonna turn around.” He shifted in the warm cocoon of Gerard's coat until he was nestled with his back against Gerard's front. When Gerard held out his cigarette, he closed his lips around it, taking a drag.

For a while they just smoked, sharing the cigarette between them.

“Mhmm, I could almost get warm,” Frank said, sounding satisfied, pushing back against Gerard. He suddenly laughed. “Bet we look really stupid. Like a monster with two heads.”

“You mean the monster with two backs,” Gerard said lewdly, making Frank giggle, his body trembling with his laughter.

“You have a one tracked mind,” Frank mock-complained.

“Uh-hmmm,” Gerard agreed, pressing his hips forward against Frank's backside just to hear him make an undignified sound.

“Hnnf,” Frank gasped, then laughed.

“I wouldn't mind doing it again,” Gerard said huskily, rocking his hips forward some more, enjoying the press of Frank’s body against him. He remembered being inside Frank earlier, thinking there was just no better feeling in the world. “We could like... get back into the car, where it's warm. I would just pull down your jeans, it'd be easy...”

“Gerard-” Frank breathed.

“-bet you're still all slick and warm and loo-”

“G, fucking hell!” Frank laughed, knocking his pointy sharp elbow into Gerard’s unguarded side.

Gerard growled a bit when Frank extracted himself from his arms, but he didn't resist when Frank pushed away. Frank turned around, looking at him with a strange mixture of turned on and exasperated.

“That's not fair. I'm freaking out over seeing your family in there and you dirty-talk me into a hard-on.”

Gerard took a last drag from the cigarette he was holding before tossing it into the gutter. “All right,” he said, “I'm gonna behave. But we really should go inside now.”

“I hate you for having a coat to cover yourself,” Frank said darkly as they started walking up the sidewalk towards the hospital entry. He was shivering again, his hands jammed into the pockets of his baggy jeans.

“Considering you don't have one, it should be way too cold to pop a boner,” Gerard retorted.

“You u-und-derestimate your al-allure,” Frank snarked, his teeth chattering.

“You want my coat?” Gerard asked.

The fist Frank knocked into his arm made him laugh, even though it hurt and he would most likely have a bruise there tomorrow.

“Fuck off.”

*-*

When they stepped into the waiting area of the maternity ward, Mikey had already been led through to the delivery room and they found Ray in conversation with Alicia's mother, looking as prim as ever in her blouse and skirt combo even though it was 1.15 in the morning.

“Gerard!“ she greeted him with false cheer, and Gerard just barely suppressed the roll of his eyes as he stepped up to her to kiss her cheek. “Hi, Mona.”

He pulled back quickly, reaching behind himself blindly for Frank's hand, locking their fingers together and pulling Frank gently forward. “You remember Frank?”

It was kind of satisfying to see the surprise on her face, but she caught herself quickly, smiling sweetly. “Of course. Frank, how are you?”

Frank shook her hand, shooting a glare at Gerard. “I’m good, how are you?,” he said politely but with lack of inflection that would do Mikey proud and left no doubt that he was just as disinterested in Mona's wellbeing as she was in his. They had never got along well and Mona had always given Frank the feeling that he didn't belong to the Way family the way Alicia did.

“Isn't it exciting?” Mona asked, and Frank and Gerard both nodded mutely. Gerard was dimly aware that he was still holding Frank's hand, but he didn't know whether he was supposed to let go of it, because Frank had his fingers wrapped tightly around his knuckles. He looked down, glancing at their locked hands, feeling a thrill run through him at the sight of Frank's tattooed fingers laced with his own.

“Hey,” Ray interrupted Gerard's thoughts, “I thought I lost you outside.”

“We had stuff to talk about,” Gerard explained, looking at Frank for help.

“Yeah. Stuff,” Frank echoed, blushing a bit and dropping Gerard's fingers as if he just now realized that they were still holding hands.

Ray grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “Cool.”

Gerard was just racking his brain about what kind of small talk to make with Mona, when he was fortunately interrupted by the arrival of his parents. It was weird seeing his mother fully dressed without any make-up, but she made up for her tired appearance with her loud voice.

“Hey, honey,” she greeted him and he wrapped her in a hug, waving at his father from over her shoulder.

Suddenly, she stiffened in his arms and then exclaimed, her shrill voice even louder and completely astounded, “Oh my God! Is that you, Frank?”

It wasn't a really nice thing being pushed aside by his own mother for his (ex?-) boyfriend, but the woman seriously had never had any shame when it came to Frank, and Gerard stepped out of her way, wincing as he watched his mother practically throw herself at a blushing Frank.

“Frankie, how are you?” she asked, enveloping him in a crushing hug.

She let him go for just a second to hold him at arm's length to look him over, before pulling him in again. “Oh, look at you, you look good, sweetie.” Over her shoulder, Frank looked helplessly at Gerard, flailing his arms, his eyes wide.

Gerard's father had looked on in stoic amusement and Gerard turned to him, sending a long-suffering look his way.

“Dad, she's smothering him in motherly love,” Gerard complained and his father rolled his eyes, but cleared his voice and took a step forward, extending his hand for Frank to shake so his wife had to let go.

Moments later, Frank stumbled over to Gerard, looking even more rumpled than he had before.

“God,” Gerard groaned, resisting the impulse to smooth down Frank's hair, “she's so embarrassing.”

“She's sweet,” Ray protested.

“I think she cracked a rib,” Frank wheezed, clutching his side.

“It's your own fault. Sucking up to her for years,” Gerard said a bit reproachfully.

“I did not!” Frank exclaimed indignantly, straightening his shirt.

“You so did,” Ray agreed and Gerard gave Frank a “told you so” look. “Man, you ate everything she ever put in front of you.”

Frank grimaced as if he only now remembered all the awful cheese toasts, tasteless veggie stews and overcooked lasagnas Gerard's mother had fed him over the years. “Sad but true,” he finally admitted.

Gerard's parents had finished greeting Mona and Gerard's Mom came over to them, reaching for Gerard's arm.

“Excuse us,” she said sweetly to Ray and Frank, “I gotta talk to my son.”

Gerard could just make out the gleeful look on Ray's face, before his mother pulled him away and shoved him behind the coffee vending machine, scarcely out of sight and certainly not out of earshot.

“Mom,” Gerard hissed, shaking off her hand of his arm.

She scowled for a moment and crossed her arms in front of her chest, before her face shifted into a bright smile. “So,” she said, raising her perfectly trimmed, pencil-stroke thin eyebrows at him, “Frank.”

Gerard sighed and refused to catch her eyes. “Yeah. Frank,” he said, thinking he sounded defeated. Why did his mother always, always meddle with his affairs?

Her grin grew and Gerard thought she looked incredibly smug and self-satisfied. “Does that mean I can invite Linda over for Thanksgiving dinner?”

“Mom, I really don't kn-“

She held up a hand and tsked. “Don't think I'm stupid. It's the middle of the night and you're both here, looking rumpled and-“

“- you said it, 'it's the middle of the night' of course everyone is rumpled. Ray's here, too and-“ Gerard interjected only to be interrupted as well.

“... rumpled and couply,” his mother continued, only to run over any of Gerard's further protests by reaching out and pulling on the fabric of the shirt he was wearing, “and anyway, you didn't even manage to get dressed in your own shirt.”

Gerard followed her gaze down to where her manicured fingers were twisted into his shirt, and yes, now that she mentioned it – the shirt he was wearing was the one Frank had worn earlier this evening. How did she even know his shirts? Was it a wild guess? Then again, Frank's shirt was a bit too small on him.

“We are not-” he stopped and lowered his voice, mindful of everyone else being just around the corner of the vending machine. “We are not together. You can't invite him for Thanksgiving.”

“But you will be, right?“ she asked, and it was said in a tone of voice that left no doubt about how very, very disappointed she would be in him if he failed to fix things with Frank.

He was searching for an answer wanting to tell her to back off his case, but she didn't wait for him to reply, stepping out from behind the vending machine before he could follow.

“Frank, you have to come over for Thanksgiving!” she called, loud enough that there was no possibility that Frank might not have heard her.

Gerard groaned and pressed his heated face into the cool side of the vending machine, before slowly trailing out from behind it, watching as his mother descended on Frank again.

“I'm gonna make Tofurkey!” he heard her say.

With a sigh, Gerard slumped against the wall next to where his father and Ray were standing in conversation.

“Dad, why is she so evil?” he moaned. “She can't invite him for Thanksgiving.”

“Yum,” his father said sarcastically and without feeling for his personal misery, “how I missed those Tofurkey Thanksgivings.“

“I'll be with Christa's family in Connecticut,“ Ray said sounding mock-sad, “I can't believe I'm gonna miss your Mom's Tofurkey!”

“Her Tofurkey totally beats her Turkey,” Gerard's father said agreeably.

“If there's a death-match between Donna's Tofurkey and Donna's Turkey, the Tofurkey would win. It's deadlier,” Ray added and both he and Gerard's father cackled.

Gerard heaved a sigh. “You guys suck,” he groaned and left them to walk over and do the sensible thing and support Frank against his Mom.

*-*

At 6.25 a.m., Gerard's niece had still refused to be born. Gerard was sitting in one of the plastic chairs, wishing he could go out for a cigarette or get up for a cup of coffee or both. He wasn't going to wake up Frank, though, who was sleeping with his head in Gerard's lap, stretched out on four of the orange plastic chairs, knees tucked up and looking about five years old, if it hadn't been for his inked arms lurking from beneath the folds of Gerard's coat.

Gerard looked up when someone used the coffee vending machine, finding his Dad standing next to it, pushing the buttons. He was looking tired and bleary-eyed – just like Gerard he hadn't been able to sleep. Across from Gerard, Mona, Ray and his Mom were huddled on some chairs. For a while Gerard had enjoyed the unflattering expression on Mona's face as she slept, her head dipped back, mouth agape.

It was much more pleasant watching Frank's sleep, his face pressed against Gerard's thigh, warm breath puffing out against his jeans. Gerard once more resisted the impulse to reach out and stroke Frank's hair the way he had done too often in the last two hours, instead readjusting the coat he had thrown over Frank as a blanket.

When he finished fussing with his coat, someone cleared his throat above him and he looked up, finding his Dad standing over him, holding out a cup of coffee. He took it gratefully, hissing when he nearly burnt his fingers on the cup's rim.

In his lap, Frank stirred, slowly and groggily pushing himself up. His hair was all over the place, dark strands tangled in front of his face and knotting up in the back. Gerard loved the way his now long hair curled at this neck and over his ears and he valiantly resisted his need to reach out and touch him. It was really difficult to keep his fingers to himself.

“How long was I out?” he asked sleepily, brushing his hair out of his face and rubbing his eyes.

“About two hours,” Gerard's Dad said. “The baby's not here yet.”

“Man,” Frank groaned, “poor Alicia.” He sniffed, then leaned closer towards Gerard, pointedly looking at the cup of coffee in his hands.

“Yeah, you can have it,” Gerard said long-sufferingly, pressing the cup into Frank's hands, smiling when Frank made a happy sound and gulped down half of the hot liquid. He didn't mind that he hadn't yet even taken a sip, the content smile on Frank's face was better than coffee.

There was some noise from the corridor, and when they all looked up, Mikey rounded the corner in dark green scrubs, surgical mask dangling around his neck, the biggest smile on his face. In fact, he was beaming like a lunatic, not an expression Gerard had seen on Mikey's face often, if ever.

“She's here!” he said, sounding excited, before immediately turning on his heel again, as if he couldn't bear to be away from his newborn child for even just a second. For a moment nobody moved as the realization sunk in that the thing they had been waiting for all night had finally transpired. Then, they jumped to their feet, following Mikey's quickly retreating steps down the corridor.

*-*

Afterwards, outside on the curb Mikey, Ray, Frank and Gerard stood next to Gerard's car, smoking, slowly coming down from the excitement of the night. They had been allowed to see the mother and child after clean-up for a couple of minutes, before they had been asked to leave to give Alicia and the baby some rest.

Gerard still couldn't quite believe that he now had a niece, that the weird growing thing in Alicia's belly had turned out to be a beautiful little baby girl with tiny red hands and sharp nails and a smattering of blonde hair. His mother actually cried when she had held her granddaughter in her arms and Gerard had instantly forgiven her every little evil deed of the night. Just as wonderful as his niece had been the twin expressions of exhausted happiness on Alicia's and Mikey's faces. Gerard definitely would need to get used to it – his baby brother with the unfortunate succession of weird haircuts and his insane love for geeky computer games was now a father.

Mikey took another puff from his cigarette, coughing. “I never thought I'd need a cigarette again, but I tell you guys, I'll have fucking nightmares about this for weeks.”

Ray patted his shoulder. He was the only one not smoking, but peer pressure made him wait outside the car in the cold with the rest of them. “You’re a fucking sissy, man. Bet it’s not that bad.”

“You wait, Toro, until your girlfriend pops out a baby. We'll talk then. Nightmares, I tell you. Nightmares,” Mikey said, sounding animated and dramatic.

Against Gerard's chest, once again huddled in his coat, Frank chuckled. “Oh, come one. You'll probably have worse nightmares from changing her diapers.”

They all giggled a bit, but it was the kind of good-natured teasing people did when they loved someone very much. Mikey rolled his eyes, but he was smiling even through the next coughing fit.

“I remember why I gave that shit up,” he wheezed, tears in his eyes. He tossed the cigarette into the gutter, before reaching for the door handle of the car.

“I need breakfast and lots of it. G, you gotta drive us to _Ted and Honey._ ”

They all got into the car, Mikey sliding in the passenger seat and hitting his long legs on the dashboard, Ray and Frank shuffling into the backseat. The wheel was ice cold underneath Gerard's stiff fingers. He blew into his cold hands, wriggling them to warm them up before he started the car. Mikey immediately reached for the heat, turning it up, before looking through the cassette tapes haphazardly piled on the dashboard and in the glove compartment.

The car started on the third try, and Mikey looked up from studying a Smashing Pumpkins tape to roll his eyes at Gerard. “Your car is a piece of shit. You should get a new one.”

“At least it has a tape player,” Ray said from the backseat. “And he kind of cleans it more often than the Escort. That car should have come with a ‘Toxic Waste’ warning.”

“Says the guy whose car was held together with gaffer tape,” Gerard shot back, looking over his shoulder and slowly backing out of the parking space.

“I want it put on record that I drive a brand-new Hyundai now,“ Ray announced, voice smug.

“I miss the Escort,” Frank sighed, leaning closer to Ray so he could leach some body heat. He was rubbing his naked arms again, burying his slightly red nose deep in the scarf Gerard had lent him.

“You would,” Mikey said, looking up from the cassette tapes and glancing over his shoulder. “Considering all you lost in its backseat-”

“Ha, fucking hah,” Frank growled, leaning forward to whack Mikey over the back of his head, making Mikey duck and cackle. “G, you wanna tell him about the one time we did it in his bed or should I?” Frank asked in a dangerously innocent and playful tone of voice.

In the rearview mirror, Gerard gave Frank a warning look, but it was much too late. Next to him on the seat, Mikey exploded in a fit of outrage, twisting so sharply in his seat to glare back at Frank that the seat belt creaked in its socket.

“You did not!” he howled, voice full of indignation.

Gerard could just make out Frank grinning in triumph, before he vanished out of the rearview mirror to scoot back and evade Mikey's badly aimed punch.

“You were sleeping over at Alicia's-” Frank started gleefully, sounding every little bit the shit he was, “- and Gerard's tv was broken, so we watched a movie on yours, and one thing led to another -”  
“You disgusting perverts! Oh my God,” Mikey groaned. “I really didn't need to know this.”

“Payback's a bitch,” Ray snarked, jostling Frank's elbow and holding up his palm for a high-five.

“Argh,” Mikey moaned. “I can't believe you fucked on my bed. That's so-”

“I changed the sheets, after, so chill,” Gerard said dryly, trying to concentrate on the road and not give a shit about Mikey's fit.

His calming words didn't go over well, because Mikey glared at him. “What's going on, anyway? Is he still your ex-boyfriend? Because then I'm gonna punch him in the fucking face!”

“Now you want to punch his face?” Gerard blurted out. “Now, seriously? What about when he really deserved it!”

“Hey!” Frank protested from the backseat.

Gerard bit his lip, glancing between Frank's wide, accusing eyes in the rearview mirror and Mikey's glare. Mikey's question was relevant, but so far they hadn't really talked about what this night meant. It had all happened so fast and instead of talking it out, they had spent the rest of the night with Gerard's family waiting for Mikey's baby-girl to be delivered. Gerard just knew what he hoped it meant.

In the end he sighed, rubbed his free hand over his face and said, “You can't punch him in the face.”

From the backseat, Frank whooped, before he threw himself forward, his weight jostling Gerard's seat, startling Gerard so badly he nearly drove the car into the ditch. He held onto the wheel with both hands, slowing down a bit, his heart beating wildly. Behind him, Frank was being kind of restless and hyper, his hands sliding over the seat and his fingers digging hard in Gerard's arm.

“See?” Frank crowed, blowing a raspberry at Mikey. “You're not allowed to punch me.” Frank had moved even further forward and was now hanging onto the back of Gerard's seat. His face was pressed into Gerard’s neck and Gerard could feel him grinning against his skin.

“Insufferable little...” Mikey growled.

Frank, in his apparent overexcitement, chose that moment to dig his sharp little teeth into Gerard's neck and Gerard howled, jerking forward, causing the car to swerve.

“Guys-” Ray said warningly.

“... brother-perverting, backstabbing sh-”

“ - could someone please stop the car?” Ray asked, sounding slightly hysterical, gripping the back of Mikey's seat hard.

“You crazy bitch, stop it,“ Mikey said, reaching back to hit Frank over the head for real now, “I don't wanna end up in a car accident because you think this is the perfect time to grope my brother!”

“Didn't you hear him? He wants me back! No punching my face! He totally wants me back!” Frank said, a bit giggly and breathy, trying to evade Mikey's hits.

“Big fucking surprise,” Mikey scoffed, before muttering under his breath, “Fucking idiots.”

Gerard decided that Ray's suggestion was actually the right idea, especially when Frank started to hit Mikey back, jostling Gerard’s seat some more.

He slowed down the car and pulled over at the side of the road, and just when he was done, even before he killed the engine, Frank had climbed over the gap between the seats and slid into his lap, nearly kicking Ray in the face with his foot.

“Fucking vampire,” Gerard complained, reaching up to rub at his throbbing neck. Frank giggled, scooting forward in Gerard's lap, his dirty sneakers hitting the dashboard, making the piled up cassette tapes tumble to the floor.

“G?” he said questioningly, settling on his thighs, hands buried in the folds of Gerard's coat, “you are taking me back, right?”

“God, Ray, let's walk the rest of the way to the diner,” Mikey moaned, before he opened the car door, letting in a cold gust of wind.

Two car doors slammed as Mikey and Ray left them alone in the car.

“Gerard?” Frank repeated his voice soft now, a bit hesitant and less sure. “I know this has been a crazy fucking night, but I seriously hope you're not regretting anything and-”

Gerard couldn't bear to listen to anymore of Frank's anxious words and he reached out, carding his fingers through Frank's tangled hair, stroking the side of his face and rubbing behind his ear.

“I often regretted my decision to stay,” Gerard said softly, liking the way his words made Frank's face heat up.

“I often regretted my decision to leave,” Frank replied, and Gerard felt the grin tug at the corner of his mouth and he gave into it, seeing the answering smile that blossomed on Frank's face.

“Come home with me?” he heard himself say and he knew that this was the only way he was going to be able to do this. All or nothing.

Frank looked at him for so long that Gerard feared he had said the wrong thing, that he had somehow misunderstood what Frank had been asking of him, but then Frank threw himself forward, kissing him so hard that their teeth clashed.

“Yes,” he said when he pulled away, breathless and relieved, “yes, thank God.”

*-*

Epilogue

Christmas Eve, 1993.

The deeds for the day were finally done – the last of the gifts had been wrapped, the stockings had been hung up over the radiator (the lack of a mantelpiece had definitely made Gerard's Mom creative) and they had a couple of hours to relax before Gerard and Mikey would drive to Bernard’s to get Christmas dinner. (It was the one time of the year where they had successfully convinced their mother to not cook, and traditionally, they ordered turkey, roast vegetables and mashed potatoes at a local restaurant.)

Mikey, Alicia and their kid had retreated to Mikey's room for a nap, and Gerard had decided that it was actually a good idea, considering that he hadn't slept that much either what with Buzz keeping them up all night. Of course Frank had to be the sensible one, and while Gerard already curled up underneath a tower of blankets in bed, Frank had taken Buzz for a walk in the snow.

When he trudged in, Buzz in tow, Gerard was already half-asleep and not exactly responding well to being woken up again by a yipping dog and an over-animated boyfriend.

He growled softly to announce his discontent with the noise they made and buried deeper into his pile of blankets. Frank's soft answering laughter made him smile into his pillow, and he half-listened to Frank's voice shushing Buzz and making her lie down on her pillows near the door, before he heard Frank shrug out of his jacket and toe off his boots, his clothes hitting the floor.

When Frank lifted the blanket to slide into bed as well, Gerard grumpily made a noise of protest, a protest he followed with a hoarse shout when Frank pressed himself against him, all icy feet and cold hands.

“Oh my fucking God, get off me! You're a fucking popsicle!” he complained, hissing and trying to move away, backing up towards the wall.

Against his back, Frank giggled, reaching for him with icy fingers. “C'mon,” he said, shuddering happily, “you're all nice and toasty. You gotta share! I walked the dog.”

Gerard whimpered when Frank scratched his cold toes down his calf, his icy fingers dancing over Gerard's belly, puffing softly into his ear. “Oh the weather outside is frightful,” he hummed, pressing closer, “but in here it's so delightful...”

“Argh,“ Gerard complained, but finally accepted his fate as a human substitute for a hot-water bottle, letting Frank snuggle closer, while Frank continued to butcher the lyrics of “Let it Snow”.

“... but if you really hold me tight, I'm gonna show you a fucking good night...”

“Oh please, shut up,” Gerard said good-naturedly, giving up and tangling their legs together.

“Just getting into the Christmas spirit,” Frank said, pressing his cold nose between Gerard's shoulder blades and rubbing himself against Gerard's back.

“You call this Christmas spirit?” Gerard asked, moving back a bit against what he rightly thought was Frank's hard-on against the back of his thigh.

“Mhmmm,” Frank said happily, pushing forward a bit, his breath quickening.

Gerard couldn't resist pressing back, also because that was a part of Frank that was definitely not frosty. Cool fingers trailed down his side, skittering over his hip and back.

“Now that's an idea that certainly would lift my Christmas spirit,” Frank said, humping his ass. His breath was puffing over the shell of Gerard's ear, making Gerard shiver. “I will totally make it worth your while, too.”

Gerard half-twisted, craning his neck back and stealing a kiss, as Frank trailed his fingers down to his naked backside, petting and stroking.

“You gotta let me fuck you, because otherwise my poor cold dick is going to fall off, and it desperately wants to go someplace warm and snug and-”

Gerard laughed against Frank's lips as Frank's fingers slid between his ass cheeks. He let Frank kiss him again, before Frank reached behind him towards the nightstand, getting the tube of lube lying there. He hissed when Frank's fingers returned, the lube just as cold if not colder than his fingers earlier, but it warmed up quickly. Heat shot through him as Frank opened him up carefully, getting Gerard on track with the program.

He dipped his head back, moaning against Frank's hair, shifting his hips so Frank had better access.

It was way too soon when Frank rolled him onto his belly, but he was too lazy to protest and the thought of the burn and stretch when Frank would enter him was turning him on.

They shifted around a bit, Gerard pushing his elbows beneath him and his ass up while Frank settled between his legs, brushing the head of his dick against Gerard's opening.

“Doggy-style!” Frank suddenly snorted into his ear, but Gerard had no breath left to complain at his boyfriend's inappropriate attempt at humor, because Frank didn't waste any time and pressed forward, making him breathe out a groan.

He bit his lip as Frank slid forward, hissing through his teeth, but he forgot about the sting the moment Frank bottomed out and rested against his back, suddenly all warm. Frank just lay there a moment, breathing unsteadily into Gerard's neck, before he pushed himself up and slowly pulled back. He thrust forward with a sigh, burying himself in one stroke.

Gerard yelped against the pillow, shifting so he could get a hand underneath himself. Behind him, Frank cursed, murmuring praise, his hand coming down on Gerard's upper back, holding him down as he sped up the movement of his hips, pistoning into Gerard hard and fast.

Gerard could always tell when Frank was close and it didn’t take long, his thrusts becoming almost brutal, until Gerard pulled his hand away from his dick so he could brace himself against Frank's movement. He grinned against the pillow, listening to Frank curse. He would never get enough of the way Frank did this when he was losing it – it always made him feel so very much alive. Frank growled low in his throat, his hips stuttering out of synch and he shoved into him once, twice more, before he bottomed out, shuddering into him, a yell muffled against Gerard's hair.

For a moment they lay there, panting hard, Frank sucking in breath desperately, before he rolled them over onto their sides, still staying inside him, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses against Gerard's neck, his fingers roaming Gerard's sweat-slick belly.

“Wait, wait,” Frank whispered, gasping in another round of breaths, his fingers trailing through Gerard's pubic hair until he reached his cock. Gerard closed his eyes, feeling the need strum through him.

For a while they breathed together, Frank’s fingers dancing on his cock, with the purpose of teasing him rather than getting off. Gerard waited patiently, sighing contently when he felt Frank shift behind him and press shallowly into him again.

“There we go,” Frank groaned, moving his hips in small circles, rocking into him gently, while his fingers moved on Gerard's cock.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “fuck.” He loved it when they fucked like this and Frank didn't pull away after he came. He hitched his hips into Frank's touch, urging him on. Frank's hand was warm and tight on his cock and Gerard felt sweat run down his neck. He was suddenly too warm, clammy with sweat, Frank behind him like a furnace. He felt the sticky trickle of Frank's release against the back of his thighs, but he didn't care, feeling himself build up towards his own orgasm.

Frank rocked into him carefully, almost lazily, but his movement picked up speed again the longer they moved together. Gerard felt himself slip away, caught in the rhythm and press of their bodies, their panting breaths loud in his ear. He felt warm and cared for, swimming in a cloud of heat, his body tingling with it. When he finally came after what seemed an eternity, shouting at the sudden sharp sensation of his orgasm ripping through him, Frank bit his neck, following him shortly, moaning and whispering his name into his skin, reverent and desperate.

He came down slowly to Frank's fingers petting his trembling, sticky stomach and he twisted onto his back, despite knowing he was gonna make a mess of the sheets. Frank was lying on his side, curling against him, his chin propped up on Gerard's shoulder, his eyes shining, hair sticking to his sweaty face.

“Warm now?” Gerard asked, reaching out and brushing a strand of dark hair from Frank's face.

“You should see yourself,” Frank said hoarsely. “You should totally be able to see yourself the way I see you.”

Flushing, Gerard rolled his eyes. “How? Sticky and disgusting?”

Frank glared a bit. “I fucking love you,” he said instead of an answer, pressing a kiss to Gerard's shoulder.

“I love you so much I want your fucking babies,” Gerard replied. “I mean, little fat dogs.”

“Buzz is not fat,” Frank protested, but he giggled.

“She will be.”

“Says the man who feeds her bacon for breakfast.”

He sounded sleepy, and Gerard poked him gently. “You know, you can't actually sleep now? We gotta get up and get dinner.”

“Pfft,“ Frank said, wiping his slightly snotty nose against Gerard's arm, which should have been gross but was actually just endearing. “Are you saying that your absolutely fabulous boyfriend, who walks your fat dog and gives you awesome orgasms can't snooze in bed while you and your brother bring home the bacon? On Christmas?”

“All right,” Gerard sighed. “Then I'm gonna get up alone. But only because it's Christmas.”

He slowly pushed himself up and climbed over Frank's prone body, tempted to slap his naked ass but valiantly resisting.

“Yeah, yeah, just because it's Christmas,” Frank murmured, flapping a hand at him.

*-*

Later that night, after a nice but still exhausting family dinner – Christmas was never entirely leisurely when the Ways, their extended family, the Simmons and now once more the Ieros came together at a table – Gerard sat in the freshly upholstered red seats of Cinema A in the Belleville Film Palace.

He looked around at the faces of the other people in the movie theater, recognizing a lot of the regulars still. In the row in front of them, Lindsay sat with husband number two, an animals’ rights activist from the WWF – they had married only a couple of weeks ago and were in Jersey to visit the family. Ray and his girlfriend were there, too, sitting on Frank’s left side, talking quietly.

When he looked over at them, he caught Frank’s eyes, and he grinned. He loved the expression on Frank’s face, unguarded and excited and childlike, like the best thing was about to happen. It was only Gremlins, but the fact that watching a movie could key up Frank so much made Gerard maybe love him even more.

Around them, the lights dimmed and the whispers from the movie goers toned down apart from the occasional cough. Gerard exhaled a breath. For a moment he could almost imagine that they had never been apart, that they had never broken up. Then again, maybe it had had to happen. Right now, he was pretty sure that they would stand against anything that life may throw their way, together.

Frank bumped his warm fingers against Gerard’s in his lap, and Gerard looked down and watched as Frank locked their hands together, his thumb drawing circles in the palm of Gerard’s hands. When Gerard turned his head, Frank was still smiling, his face glowing, happy and content.

For the first time in a long time, things were just as they were supposed to be.

The End


End file.
